I Should Have Waited For You
by OneWanderingMind
Summary: They walked the same halls in high school, but they haven't met until now, six years after graduation. With obstacles in the way, how will Emily and Alison finally come together? No A or Alison disappearance. Emison.
1. Chapter 1

**Greetings to you all! I'm tossing this out to see if y'all would be interested in it being continued. I don't like to give much upfront information. I prefer throwing readers into the deep end and revealing everything along the way. I will say that this takes place many years after the PLL5 graduate from high school. No A, no Alison disappearance. It's a slow burn Emison centric story.**

**One thing I should say upfront. The issue I've chosen for Emily and Alison will in no way reflect the right or wrong way to deal with or talk about a real-life struggle with alcoholism. It's about the characters and their journey—not a social message.**

**Rated T for language and suggestive situations if I continue. Probably M when all is said and done.**

* * *

"Well, if it isn't the infamous Alison DiLaurentis."

Hearing her name, a blonde woman spun on her heel to face the owner of the self-important voice. Oddly enough, it actually reminded her of her own. Her quick movement upset her styrofoam coffee cup causing a small river of brown liquid to trickle down her hand. Her blue eyes bounced between the puddle on the floor, her stinging hand and a tall smirking brunette. Deciding to tackle the inconvenience of the stranger first, she replied, "Do I know you?"

"Apparently not," the other woman chuckled. She glanced down at the coffee and said, "I think you spilled something."

"I noticed that," Alison growled through gritted teeth. She was habitually inclined to think the worst of people and this woman was pouring and setting perfectly in her pre-constructed "bitch mold".

"It's a shame to ruin this immaculate gym floor that hundreds of kids run and sweat on every day," the other woman baited.

Her temper about to whistle with the sharp scream of a kettle, Alison snatched a wad of napkins off a cheap metal table. She didn't dare make eye contact with her unwelcome companion. This wasn't the place for a verbal beheading.

Before she could bend down, the brunette grabbed the napkins from the blonde's hand, dropped them carelessly on the floor and swiveled them in a small circle with the toe of her right boot. "Problem solved," she declared.

"Thank you," Alison replied for the sake of common courtesy. Her every impulse begged her to whittle the slim, cocky brunette down to size, but she didn't have the energy. Hence, why she had a warm caffeinated beverage in her hand. These meetings usually exhausted her. Either that or irritated her.

"Exchanging one addiction for another?"

"Excuse me?" Alison snapped.

"Your coffee," the brunette pointed at the white cup. "Alcohol for caffeine?"

"I know what you meant," the blonde sneered. "Was it supposed to be funny?"

"Oh, you're one of those touchy alcoholics?"

"I'm sorry. Who the hell are you?" the blonde threw out. This was escalating far too quickly. She was on the verge of using the coffee as a liquid projectile.

"Emily Fields," the other woman stated simply. "We went to the same high school. You passed me millions of times in the hallways." Emily picked the soaked napkins off the ground and tossed them into a used styrofoam cup.

"Should I remember you?" the blonde snipped.

"Probably not. You just didn't notice me. Don't worry, my heart is intact despite the absence of you," Emily joked.

Not finding any part of this dreadful conversation to be funny, Alison asked knowingly, "But you noticed me?"

With her arms tucked across her chest, the brunette snickered, "You owned those halls. Everyone noticed you." She added with a hint of disdain, "I mostly noticed you when you were ripping people to pieces with your insufferable snark."

"Did you come over here to tell me what a horrible person I was in high school?!" Alison sputtered. Blood boiling, she stared down the defiant woman apparently hellbent on getting a rise out of her. She succeeded. Alison's brain rumbled with insults and snide remarks. She was sure that her blue eyes now glowed red.

Aware of Alison's outward response to her insult, Emily carefully slipped the coffee cup from the infuriated woman's shaking hand. "Let's not dirty up the floor I just painstakingly cleaned. Plus, I don't want you to ruin that white dress."

Flabbergasted at the gesture, the other woman barked, "Am I being punked? Or are you really capable of being exceptionably rude and thoughtful at the same time?"

"I have been told that I'm multitalented."

Shaking her head back and forth as if to clear it, Alison noted, "You just called me insufferable."

"No. I called your snark insufferable." Emily smirked, "There's a difference."

Astounded by the sudden stillness of her fury, Alison brushed her hands down her dress to smooth any wrinkles. Unwilling to let all of Emily's discourteous comments slide, she reminded, "You also insinuated that I have a problem with addiction."

"Alison, you're at an AA meeting in a school gym. I didn't have to jump very far to land on that conclusion," Emily spun her arms around motioning to their surroundings.

Alison detested the puke green walls and the ripe smell of sweaty teenage bodies hanging in the air. There were at least fifty metal chairs organized in rows with a small, rickey wooden podium front and center. She responded defensively, "I mean, you made it sound like I'm basically cheating in my recovery."

"I was joking. That joke usually kills at these meetings."

"Why do I think you're exaggerating?" the blonde rolled her eyes at Emily's bloated confidence.

"Fine," Emily sighed with sarcasm, "It's hit or miss."

"I wonder why."

"Well, I think I'm hilarious." A wide grin engulfed the brunette's face. Although the woman's compulsive rudeness still tainted Alison's view, her entrancing smile conjoined with her sparkling brown eyes threatened to overshadow her words. "It's quite alright if you're still on the fence about my humor," Emily graciously added.

"I wouldn't say that I'm on the fence," Alison declared finding the woman's attitude slightly entertaining.

With a chuckle, Emily returned the white cup to its owner. "Well, I don't want to keep you from your replacement addiction. I just wanted to say 'hello'."

Scoffing, the blonde responded, "Your version of 'hello' is about as welcome as my 'insufferable snark' in high school."

"I get that a lot. I keep hoping I'll get a different reaction."

"Well, you know what they say about insanity? Doing the same—"

"Thing over and over again and expecting different results," Emily interrupted good-naturedly. "Thank you, Albert Einstein." She pointed at herself and then Alison as she spoke, "So, I'm insane and you're insufferable." The grin appeared again.

The beginnings of a smile tugged at the corner of Alison's lips. "It appears so."

"Match made in heaven," the brunette claimed flippantly.

"Too bad god forgot to keep me single," the blonde quipped. An unexpected shock of nervousness shot up her spine. The response tumbled from her lips without reason.

"Oh please," Emily waved off the comment, "I eat significant others for breakfast."

"'Significant others'?" Alison found herself amused by the term. "I didn't take you for the politically correct type."

Snorting humorously, the brunette assured the woman, "I'm definitely not. I'm just all inclusive."

"That's considerate of you," the blonde returned. She was still wrestling with the fact that two minutes ago she wanted to rip this woman's throat out with her teeth. Now, she really didn't want the conversation to end any time soon.

Emily took her phone from her pocket and groaned when she saw the time, "I hate to break up my attempt to weasel my way into your good graces, but I've got a date to get to."

"Don't sound so enthusiastic," Alison replied trying to hide the disappointment in her voice.

"It's a blind date. I'm not really good on blind dates."

"Just try saying 'hello' in a less offensive way."

"After a few drinks, I'm sure I'll be just fine," Emily replied with a straight face. When she saw Alison's jaw slacken, she followed up smiling, "Are you really one of those sensitive alcoholics? Because then I'm actually going to feel bad for making light of all this."

"No! I just—" the blonde stammered. "I just don't know you so…"

"Ah, yes. I could just come here for the stale cookies and coffee," the other woman agreed.

"Or to spill the coffee on other people," a fully formed smile danced across Alison's mouth.

"Wow," Emily's eyebrows shot up as she studied the glowing features before her. "You're stunning. Like staggeringly beautiful." She spoke as if the words were kicked out of her. "I couldn't see it under the angry face."

Two fires blazed on either side of Alison's face. Instantly, her mouth dried out and her vocal chords wavered. She couldn't remember the last time someone had so forwardly complimented her.

"Say 'thank you'," Emily urged comically.

"Thank you!" the blonde squeaked in response. In an attempt to recover, she said as the blood left her cheeks, "I'm sorry. I'm completely wiped. It's been a long day."

"And then some bitch made you spill your coffee."

Unable to wipe the goofy expression off her face, Alison corrected, "Well, she did clean it up."

"And then she completely embarrassed you by blatantly pointing out how gorgeous you are." Alison's cheeks quickly blazed red once again as Emily concluded. "She's kinda sorry."

The blonde cleared her throat multiple times before she managed, "Sorry for what?"

"That I didn't get to you before your 'significant other' did." Actually shocked by her comments rendering Alison unable to speak, she asked, "What happened to the queen bee with a response to everything and reaction to nothing?"

Suddenly snapping back to the woman Emily spoke of, Alison replied, "She's right here. This place just throws me off a bit."

Nodding, Emily agreed, "This place does strip you of any power, but still manages to empower you. It's ridiculous. I kinda hate it."

"We all kinda hate it." Alison stared at the podium as she spoke. That podium was the most terrifying place in the world. In fact, she'd never plucked up the courage to share. In all aspects of her life, she dominated attention and wielded control over entire groups of people, but here, she was just a face in the crowd. However, this was her safe place, her haven in the storm of her life.

"Shit," Emily exclaimed, "I'm going to be late for that date I'm so eager to get to."

"Well then," Alison shoved her hand outward, "It was nice to meet you, Emily Fields."

"And it was nice to be noticed by you, Alison DiLaurentis," Emily took a few steps past Alison after shaking her hand, then turned back to ask, "Out of curiosity, what is your 'significant other'?"

"He's my fiancé."

Scrunching her eyebrows together, the brunette replied, "I never liked that word, it's kinda weird. Oh and congrats on your almost marriage."

"Thank you," Alison replied robotically. She'd heard that more times than she could count. For some reason, she didn't like that Emily said it. What did she expect her to say? "Will I see you again?" Alison asked.

"Sure," Emily replied. "We'll run into each other again. Oh, I almost forgot to ask. Do you still live in Rosewood?"

"Yes. Why?"

"Is there a reason you drive all the way to Philadelphia for these meetings?"

"I'm trying to keep the 'anonymous' in 'Alcoholics Anonymous'."

"Good point. That place is a like a fish bowl. Alright. I really am going to leave now."

"Bye," Alison called after her. With the swiftness of Emily's exit, the blonde wasn't even sure if her farewell had been heard. She kicked herself for leaving their next possible meeting so open-ended. Glancing down at her white gold watch, she gasped, "Shit." After setting her coffee on the table beside her, she fumbled through her purse searching for her phone. As she unlocked the phone with a swipe of her thumb and four digit code, she waved to a few acquaintances as she stomped out of the building in her noisy high heels. Moments later, she spoke into her phone, "Spence, hey. Are we still having dinner? I know I'm a little late." She paused and then nodded. "Yeah, I'm a five minute drive away. I'll see you soon." She pulled the phone away to hang up, but suddenly changed her mind and asked, "Wait, hang on a sec! Do you know anything about an Emily Fields?"

* * *

**So what's the verdict? To continue or not to continue? Make your opinion known!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Based on the response, I'm happy to continue! Thank you for all the encouragement thus far.**

* * *

An overly enthusiastic waiter ushered Emily to a roomy table and seated her while stammering a greeting. To put the enamored boy at ease, Emily graciously smiled and thanked him. After witnessing the poor guy almost fall on his face as he retreated, Emily scanned the room. Tall black columns connected by Roman style arches loomed overhead. Hanging from the white ceiling were dozens of brushed steel candelabras. She chuckled at the modern art canvases dotting the walls. She never could understand the "art" of splatters and squiggles. Her fingers brushed against the soft material which lined the plush white dining chair. All of this screamed expensive. Leave it to Hanna to set her up at an upscale restaurant.

Her best friend, Hanna Marin, orchestrated this mysterious dinner date. For reasons known only to her crafty friend, she refused to tell Emily the name of her date. The brunette had been instructed to show up at this address at 8:00 pm, mention a reservation for "Marin" and then wait patiently for a cute blonde in a red dress.

Checking the time on her phone, Emily sighed when she read 8:16 on the bright screen. This mystery woman proved to value timeliness less than she did. As she dialed her friend responsible for this meal, her waiter rushed over to take her drink order. She lifted the phone to her ear and said, "I'll just take water. Thanks."

"What water?" a voice on the other end of the line queried.

"She's late, Han."

"And what time did you get there?" Hanna asked sounding like she already knew the answer.

"Two minutes ago."

"Then shut up."

"You're so sweet to me, asshole," Emily joked as she arranged her hair perfectly over her shoulders. Although not overly concerned with her appearance, she recognized the importance of first impressions. Her and Hanna's immature banter proved that their friendship hadn't evolved in some ways since high school. "Hanna," Emily spoke slowly as she spotted something after a couple rose from their table to exit, "Why is there a tiny pool in here?"

"Is it pretty? I knew it was there!" Hanna sounded excited. "Tell me what it looks like."

Raising her eyebrows and gesturing a flat hand toward the shallow, marble tile lined pool, she answered without ceremony, "It looks like a flat hole with water in it." While she could go into a lengthy description about the depth, color scheme and lighting of the pointless hole in the middle of the floor, she preferred to give her friend a hard time.

"Thanks so much. I'm overwhelmed by the details."

"It's almost like you're here," the other woman snickered. Knowing she probably didn't have much longer to speak, she offered, "Guess who I saw at my favorite weekly meeting?"

"You probably should be going twice a week," the other woman said casually.

"Han…"

"Fine," she didn't pursue the topic. "Who? Do I know them?"

"She knows you and you may or may not know her," Emily smirked. If she didn't feel the compulsive need to share everything with Hanna immediately, she would have waited to deliver the news in person. She hated to miss her reaction.

"Well, who is it?" her voice rang with anticipation.

"Alison DiLaurentis," Emily tossed the name like a live hand grenade.

There was a silence for a full two seconds before the bomb exploded, "That fucking bitch face ugly ass—"

Emily listened to a few seconds of swearing as she mouthed "thank you" to the waiter placing a perfectly arranged plate of bread, small bowl of olive oil and glass of water on the table. When Hanna took a breath, the brunette asked, "So you do or do not remember her?"

"I wish I could punch you in the shoulder."

Emily took a sip of water and replied, "Save it for later."

"I hope you weren't nice to her," the other woman stated seriously.

Smiling, the brunette said, "I did my best not to be." From across the room, she saw a woman in a red dress and with blonde hair strutting toward the table. Her jaw fell open, only stopped because of the muscles holding the bones together. She now knew why Hanna hadn't dared to tell her the woman's name. She growled into the phone before hanging up, "Are you kidding me? Samara?!"

"Em, just be—" Emily smashed her thumb on the red button on the screen of her phone and tossed it onto the table. In moments like these, she yearned for an old corded desk phone so she could hang up by banging a bulky handset down onto a rectangle housing. The loud crack abruptly ended a conversation and provided pleasure with the act of slamming down an inanimate object without fear of cracking a screen. Any nervousness she felt disappeared along with her smile. Walking toward her was one of the several women she'd hope to never see again. She cursed herself for noticing how four years had only enhanced her beauty. Harnessing every bit of willpower, she glued her eyes to the woman's face, not permitting her gaze to drift to the plunging neckline of the dress or how it—. _Dammit!_

"Hi," the blonde said sheepishly as she took a seat across from the brunette.

Emily didn't speak. She couldn't decide what to say. Should she be mad or sad or possibly indifferent? Still grappling for an emotion as if she was climbing a greasy pole, she asked, "You knew it was me, didn't you?

"Yeah. I did."

One hand flew to her neck and the pads of her fingers pushed into her skin and rolled circles around her muscles. Based on her body language, Emily was somewhere between flustered and angry. She queried, "Was this your idea?"

Unsure as to whether Emily planned to banish her in a storm of fury, Samara hesitantly placed her clutch on the table beside the napkin covered silverware. She replied, "No. I ran into Hanna a week ago. She suggested it."

"A week ago?" Although not surprised by Hanna's audacity, she was shocked at her ability to keep a secret for that long. She dropped her hand from her neck and fiddled with the napkin she had unfolded in her lap.

"She made me think you'd be open to meeting with me."

"This isn't a meeting, Samara," Emily was quick to clarify. "This is a date."

"Well, I want to date you, not be an acquaintance or a friend. I've never been your friend."

Impressed by the woman's confidence, the brunette replied, "Well, I'm glad that we've cleared that up." When the blonde flashed a smile, Emily's animosity subsided. While she didn't drop the drawbridge for Samara to storm back into the fortified castle of her life, she did at least call off the guards.

"Let's just talk and eat," Samara suggested. "Whatever happens, happens."

"Fine. I'm good at talking and eating and if I remember correctly, you're _really_ good at eating."

"Has anyone ever told you not to tease girls like that?"

Emily shrugged innocently, "I'm not a good listener."

"How did I manage to stay with you for almost two years?"

Cocking an eyebrow and shaking her head, the brunette replied, "I have no idea."

* * *

"So Duncan is out of town again?" Spencer asked her blonde friend sitting across the table from her. She stirred the lemon around in her water glass with a straw. Her eyes caught sight of a lemon seed sliding down the ice cubes and landing at the bottom of her glass. "Dammit!" she muttered.

"When are you going to learn to pull the seeds out? You end inhaling them and hacking really loud. It's kinda gross."

"Thanks, Ali. Your concern is overwhelming," the woman replied. Glancing up at her distracted friend, she prompted, "Are you going to answer the question?" The woman stifled a laugh as the blonde popped her head up and down trying to peek around the many heads in the restaurant. As Alison swept the room for a waiter or waitress, she bounced a fork up and down on the table. With every high pitched twang of the metal on cloth covered wood, Spencer's patience diminished by a second.

"Holy shit!" Spencer exclaimed smacking a hand down on Alison's to silence the noise. "Someone will be over here soon."

"Fine," Alison conceded. She folded her hands in her lap to keep from banging another piece of silverware.

"Good. Let's keep your hands away from pointy things," the girl with long brunette locks suggested. She was quite at a loss as to why her friend was so impatient. While she knew the AA meetings sometimes stressed Alison out or plunged her into deep thought, she never left a meeting this tightly wound. "Do you want to explain why you're freaking out? What happened at the meeting?"

With a sigh, Alison threw a familiar blasé look at her friend, "Nothing happened, well, not much."

"So, you're playing one-handed fork drums because 'not much' happened?"

Snatching up the fork, Alison waved it in Spencer's face, "I'm getting freaking hungry, Spencer. We've been waiting too long _and_ I'm pretty sure there is a spot on this fork _and_ I saw a smudge on my water glass."

"You are such a snob," Spencer chuckled slapping away the weapon wagging dangerously near her face, "even in a restaurant that you own."

Alison's face relaxed at the cheerful dismissal of her unwarranted insistence of perfection. As Spencer watched the blonde's pointless frustration dissolve, she couldn't help but contrast present day Alison to high school Alison. Said without any tact, Ali was a monster in high school. The first few years of their friendship, Spencer often felt like a possession rather than an equal and confidant. If the brunette had called her a snob back then, Alison would have either lashed out viciously or threatened to toss her back into Loserville with the rest of those she tormented on a daily basis. In retrospect, Spencer knew she remained close to the queen bee for protection rather than companionship. Ali may have been a bitch, but she took care of her own. Now, Alison reserved her venom for strangers and those she deemed incompetent. In those cases, her bitchiness still remained—no one is perfect.

"So back to what I asked you before the fork wielding," Spencer spoke up.

"If we must," the other woman nodded with a smile. "Yes, Duncan is out of town, but he'll be back at the end of the week."

"Is he at another conference?"

"Yes, another geek event. Who knew a man obsessed with flying planes would also be so good at computer stuff. Whatever it is."

"He's a highly respected software engineer, Ali. Give him some credit," Spencer said hesitantly. While the brunette had ten years of experience with Alison's swinging pendulum of behavior, she rarely witnessed her friend belittle her fiancé's job. Alison would never marry someone she didn't feel deserved her. She respected Duncan maybe more than she loved him, but Alison would never admit that to anyone and Spencer didn't judge her for it.

"You're right. I know. He's wonderful and talented. I'm very lucky." Spencer sensed an inflated amount of obligation in Alison's words. She sounded like someone giving a sales pitch for toilet paper. You needed it and really appreciated it, but you definitely weren't excited about it. As the blonde spoke, Spencer tucked away the observation for future consideration. Alison continued, "The AA meeting was a bit rough."

"Did you share?" the brunette asked apprehensively. This could be a monumentous day.

"No, of course not," Alison brushed off the idea.

"Then what happened?"

"On the phone, I asked you about an Emily Fields."

"Yeah," Spencer replied. Inclined to read into everything, she failed to see how a random girl could have such an impact on a usually impassive, headstrong woman. Remembering Alison expected more than a one word answer, the brunette said, "I keep racking my brain, but I'm coming up empty."

"She basically accosted me."

"What?" Spencer smiled and almost laughed. No one in their right mind confronted Alison DiLaurentis. "I'm sure she regretted it. Please tell me you stayed relatively calm."

"I didn't know how to react. She reminded me how much of a bitch I was in high school. She seemed to think she was just making conversation."

"Oh," the brunette's voice fell an octave. Now it made sense. Alison had found out in college that the higher you elevated yourself at the expense of others, the farther you have to fall. It was one thing to joke about her prior bullying with her friends, but another to be called out by strangers. Not wanting Alison to dwell, Spencer expedited the conversation, "So she went to our high school?"

"Yeah, but apparently I—well, we—didn't know her."

"Oh, well—"

"Shit, Spence!"

"What? Did a waiter serve food from the wrong side?"

"That's her!" Alison pointed a finger across the restaurant.

"Seriously?" Spencer wasn't sure whether to freak out or belly laugh.

"She's looking over here. Hide!"

Astounded by her friend's childish reaction, she replied as she watched Alison cower behind her hands, "You hide. She doesn't even know me." Much to Spencer's surprise and dismay, a tanned skinned brunette nodded, winked and smiled at her. "Or not. If she's a brunette in a black top, I think she recognizes me."

With her hands still hiding her face, Alison snapped, "Duh, Spencer. You and I were connected at the hip in high school. Anyone who knows me, knows you."

"Ah yes. I assumed incorrectly."

"What do I do?" the blonde peeked out from behind her fleshy shield.

Spencer's shock compounded. What about this woman rendered Alison as nervous as a squirrel? She glanced in the brunette's direction while answering her friend, "She's still sitting down. She's not even paying attention to us."

"Oh," Alison's hands dropped revealing her familiar apathetic face. "Then we're fine."

"Why don't you go talk to her?" Spencer randomly. She had no idea what the next few minutes would bring. There were so many variables in this situation and therefore an incalculable number of outcomes. Her Hastings's brain was about to implode.

"What?" the other woman gasped with palms flattening on the table. "Why would I—what? No, I couldn't."

Placing her hands over Alison's, the brunette said, "Ali, I love you, but get your shit together."

"Where is Aria's sympathetic heart when I need it?"

"It's on a date with Ezra. It's their date night. You're stuck with me."

"Do you know where they went? Did they stay in Rosewood or—"

"Ali!" Spencer cut off her friend trying to dodge the question.

"Fine," Alison conceded. "What legitimate reason do I have to go over there and barge in on what appears to be a date."

Spencer easily picked up on the disappointment in the blonde's voice at the word "date". Adding that to her list of 'Things I Noticed About Ali Tonight', she responded, "This is your restaurant. Go brag about it… subtly." Alison's raised eyebrow prompted a follow up, "Or ask what she thinks about it." Her friend was still not convinced so she stated, "She looks at you as that bully from high school. Show her who you are now."

"Why are you pushing this?"

"Because, it's a typical Alison thing to do. Go. Now!" Spencer ordered waving her hands upward coaxing her friend to stand.

Reluctantly, Alison rose from her chair. She tossed her napkin on the table and teased, "I'm going to murder you if this goes badly."

"Nah, you'll be thanking me. You're beautiful and successful. You're pretty much the shit."

"Spoken in a very non-Spencer Hastings's way."

"Get over there," the brunette smiled as Alison's confidence returned to her shoulders and her face. She had no idea why this Emily person had so much power over her friend, but that power was about to be usurped and returned to its rightful owner.

* * *

Alison swallowed and rubbed the beads of sweat off her palms and onto her dress. Spencer was right. This was ridiculous. As she maneuvered around occupied tables, she calmed her nerves. Emily's date, _maybe_ her date, spotted her before Emily did. Upon reaching the table, she settled her hands nonchalantly on the edge and said, "Hello again, Emily."

She saw the brunette smile before she even looked up. "Fancy meeting you here."

"I'm here with a friend and I just wanted to say hello."

"So that's how you're supposed to say hello," the brunette noted with a smirk.

Pleased that Emily recalled their banter, she turned to the woman in the red dress and offered a hand in greeting, "Hi. Where are my manners? I'm Alison."

The blonde pumped her arm once and said, "Hi, Alison. I'm Samara." She asked both Alison and Emily, "So how do you two know each other?"

Alison hesitated, but the brunette quickly answered, "We went to high school together and we ran into each other in yoga class."

While Alison shot Emily a confused look, the other blonde addressed Emily, "Since when do you do yoga, Em." Alison liked the sound of the shortened name, although she didn't like this blonde person using it.

"Since I realized that yoga pants are a gift from above sent to bless all of those who like… yoga."

"You mean asses," the woman's date snorted.

Not sure how to expound upon this lie, Alison just smiled as Emily boldly stated, "Alison's yoga pants fit her very well."

Tucking her tongue in her cheek, Alison noted, "You think you can do no wrong, don't you?"

"Only as much as you." The smirk on Emily's lips seemed to be both a challenge and an invitation.

While Alison's mind contemplated the latter, Samara asked, "Should I leave you two alone?"

"Oh, no," Alison remarked, "Eventually, we'd become hostile." She saw a waiter approach the table. Upon seeing Alison, he snapped to a position of attention. She scoffed, "Don't stand like that. You look ridiculous."

"At ease, soldier," Emily joked.

"Would you please put the bill for this table onto mine?" Alison asked taking Spencer's advice on flaunting her influence.

"Yes, Ms. DiLaurentis," he replied hurriedly.

"Please don't call me that. It's Alison. I'm your boss, not your task master." The boy turned to leave, but Alison said, "Were you going to take their order?"

"Oh, yeah. Right. Yeah," he stammered before pulling out a pad of paper and jotting down Samara's drink order, which happened to be an alcoholic beverage, and both of their food orders.

When the boy practically sprinted away from the table, Samara noted, "I thought he was going to pee his pants."

Proud of herself for showcasing her dominance, Alison opened her mouth to speak but was cut off by Emily, "That's strange. Alison is usually as soft as a stuffed animal: an adorable teddy bear."

"Emily thinks she is way more funny that she is," Samara scoffed with a smile.

"Mhmm," Alison muttered. For some reason, she found it distasteful to agree with this person. She attributed it to the woman's dress. There was no need for the dress to cut down that low in the front. It made her look like she was trying too hard. As she stood there judging, she refused to admit that she succumbed to a double standard as she assured herself that she could pull off that dress perfectly.

"So who did you have to kill to get this restaurant," Emily asked.

"Oh, please," Alison waved off the suggestion, "I just walked in and all the bidders ran away." Captivated by the brunette's eyes filled with warmth and nose crinkled with humor, she almost jumped at the tap on her shoulder.

The face of the general manager proved most unwelcome as he blurted, "Excuse me Alison. We have a situation. Can I—"

"Do you see me having a conversation?" she asked flatly. If there was one thing she abhorred, it was being interrupted mid-conversation.

"Yes," he answered simply, afraid to expound without an invitation.

"Is the building on fire?"

"No."

"Is it going to catch on fire in the next five minutes?"

"…No."

With crossed arms and narrowed eyes, she squared her shoulders, faced the man and continued with another question, "Can I effectively have two conversations at once?"

Instead of answering, he deflected, "I saw you were busy having a conversation with Ms. Hastings earlier and I didn't want to—"

"Interrupt?" Alison finished. Although she was a full six inches shorter than the manager, she narrowed the gap in stature with her domineering tone, "I'm still busy, just at another table." She heard Emily snickering. While she wondered if the laugh was meant to mock her, she didn't falter and ordered, "Go bother Spencer. I'll be there in a moment."

"Wow," Alison heard Samara say over her shoulder. "You're scary."

"Eh," Emily dismissed the accusation, "It's sexy."

"Oh, is it?" the brunette's dinner companion replied.

Actually relieved at the sight of the nervous waiter, Alison stood by as he set down a martini and a glass of water in front of Samara. Emily didn't flinch at the sight of the alcohol until her friend offered, "Now I know it's not a straight vodka shot sticking out of a sorority girl's mouth, but I know you enjoy a good martini." She asked Alison, "I assume the drinks here are nice and strong?"

Shrugging, Alison's eyes never left Emily's face as she replied, "I've been told they are made well, but I personally wouldn't know."

"I'm gonna pass, Samara," the brunette said flippantly. "Martinis aren't my thing anymore. Plus, you know I can never drink just one and I have clients early tomorrow morning."

Alison didn't hear the next few sentences in the conversation. Her internal dialogue put the real world on mute. She rolled Emily's response around in her brain. She found Emily's answer to be unexpected given the assertive attitude she'd been advertising. Apparently when it came to her addiction, transparence was the road less traveled. Of course, Alison hadn't expected Emily, or any recovering addict, to launch into a monologue about her recovery. She personally stuck to the very simple "I don't drink" and then brushed off any peer pressure with a glare of annoyance.

Emily's warm fingers grazing against the back of Alison's hand flipped on her dulled auditory senses. The brunette said, "Alison. Hello?"

"Hi. Sorry, what?"

"Is this the only restaurant that you own?"

"Oh, no. Of course not. I bought out The Brew in Rosewood and I opened another restaurant in Rosewood."

"You look young," Samara commented. Alison's eyebrows flew up. Before she could defensively ask what her age had to do with anything, the other blonde continued, "How did you come to own them?"

"Not a spectacular story. I went to business school, took some family money and leveraged my good business sense."

"Ali!" the blonde heard Spencer call her name.

She spun around and flashed the approaching woman a 'what the fuck' look before saying, "Yeah, Spence. What is it?"

When she reached the table, Spencer explained, "The manager guy, Chris, is about to have a brain hemorrhage. You need to come talk to him."

Alison rolled her eyes in annoyance, even though she delighted in being in charge. She had found a profitable outlet to channel her propensity to tell people what to do. Her uncanny ability to read people and ability to quickly adapt to changing environments made her an excellent business owner. She wasn't super popular with the wait staff since she put no effort into endearing herself to them, but she ranked that low on the totem pole of priorities of owning a business. She nodded to Emily and Samara before taking her leave. "It was good to see you again Emily and nice to meet you Samara."

"Likewise," the blonde at the table smiled. Alison wondered if the woman was happy to see her go.

"I'll see you next week?" the brunette asked. "Same time for yoga class?"

"Yes, I'll be there," Ali smiled. She turned and walked past Spencer who allowed the blonde to pass by before turning away from the remaining two women. Alison heard her friend rattle off a greeting and goodbye in the same breath.

As Alison headed over to speak with Chris, Spencer caught up to her and whispered, "Emily totally checked you out—unapologetically and for far too long. Was that her date? Because she didn't seem too happy about Emily's eyes being glued to your ass."

"Geez, Spencer!" Alison blushed as she elbowed the brunette in the ribs.

Grabbing the woman's forearm, Spencer said, "I really, really don't want to ask this, but is something—"

"Don't, Spence," the other woman shook out of her friend's grip. She knew Spencer was about to accuse her of something in the form of a question. "I need to handle whatever Chris is freaking out about. I'll be right back." She didn't dare glance at her friend. The brunette's face spoke as clearly as her mouth and she didn't want to see or hear it. There was nothing going on between her and Emily. She kinda couldn't stand her. "Chris, what's up?" she asked her employee as she switched off the portion of her brain intent on fantasizing about the next time she saw Emily.

* * *

**I hope you're still interested!**

**Since this story is really just for fun without any serious intentions, I'd love to know if you guys want to see any specific characters make any cameos. I already have the main characters (who will be revealed slowly but surely) in mind that are necessary to the plot, but I'd be happy to sprinkle in random appearances of different people.**

**Let me know. I'd love to hear from you guys!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hi again! I'm glad y'all are still reading. Thank you for the comments and compliments. It's a little short for my taste, but I'm not sure how much time I'll have to write in the next few days. I did take some liberty with one of the flashbacks on the show, but I made it better. Enjoy!**

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Emily flipped open a book while lounging in a chair outside The Brew in Rosewood. She plucked out a sticky note, which functioned as a bookmark, from between pages thirty two and thirty three. The yellow square read: "Books completed in last two years: 0!". She scoffed at her passive aggressive attempt to convince herself to finish a book. The scent of fresh paper and ink still clung to the pages. "Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep" didn't thrill her as much as she wanted it too. In high school and college, she zipped through books like a box of Oreos. Much to her surprise, the sci-fi genre intrigued her most of all. There was something fascinating about the collision of human nature and fantasy in some of the novels. When she basically dragged herself into a book store a month ago, she eagerly picked up Philip Dick's novel that depicted a futuristic world decimated by a world war, resulting in a migration to Mars and the theme of empathy as it applies to the human race and androids.

Staring at the pages, she found herself frustrated once again with the writing style. Dick's sentences seemed to run together and it was difficult to distinguish between description and inner dialogue. She groaned. There was very little structure, no control. She craved control; she needed it. She couldn't even tolerate literature lacking in what she deemed as a necessity to living. When she let her guard down and let the wind blow her haphazardly out into the sea, she occasionally found herself in the liquor store around the corner from her apartment standing in front of Grey Goose. The past few weeks had been a nightmare. Because of an upcoming anniversary, she was living in a perpetual state of "assume crash positions".

With a sigh, she tucked the yellow sticky note back into the book—still between pages thirty two and thirty three. The dreaded anniversary wasn't the only force threatening her sobriety. Although she hadn't laid eyes on Alison since that night at dinner, the blonde often stomped into her consciousness at the most random times. Because she had limited experience with the not-a-freakin-bitch-anymore Alison, her mind created a version of the woman that couldn't possibly exist. Her brain filled in the blanks of personality, facial expressions, movement and behavior. Most importantly, the Alison living in her thoughts was single. When Hanna found out that Emily was attracted to an engaged Alison, she persuaded Emily in a friendly, yet verbally aggressive manner to keep her distance. Hanna was right and Emily knew it. Per usual, she distracted herself with other romantic interests. Well, romantic might be a strong word, unless you count one dinner before sleeping with someone to be romantic. She hadn't seen Samara since the morning after their date. Emily didn't want to deal with dredging up old feelings and possibly falling for the blonde yet again. What she needed now was a firm grip on her heart, so leaving it vulnerable to an ex-girlfriend wasn't a spectacular plan. Of course, inviting Alison into her life in any capacity might be an equally bad idea.

She tossed the book onto the table and reached for a cup of coffee that thankfully was still warm. When she glanced up, she spotted a small familiar brunette strolling down the sidewalk. The young woman squinted in Emily's direction and then waved with a smile of recognition. She walked over and greeted her, "Hey. I'm pretty sure I know you. Did you go to Rosewood High?"

"Yeah, I did," the brunette smiled back at the fashionably dressed woman who brightened Emily's outlook with only her presence. "I'm Emily and you're… Aria, right?"

"Yeah! We had a few study groups together didn't we?"

"Yeah, we did."

"Are you still friends with Hanna… Hanna Marin? That's her name right?"

Pleased and impressed by Aria's memory, Emily replied, "Yes. We're still very good friends."

"I had some study groups with her too. She got a little snarky senior year."

"That's a really random thing to say," Emily laughed. "True, but random."

"Well, for so long she was… well, you know what Ali called her," Aria sighed. "And then senior year she was thin, fashionable and sporting a sharp tongue."

"Well, imagine that snark times three now."

Grinning, Aria said, "It's crazy that she and I are going to be working together."

"Wait what? She's working with you? She just got a job as a departmental head at a new art and fashion consulting company."

"Yup and I'm one of the art consultants."

"Wow," Emily breathed out. Her world just got a whole lot smaller. Like it or not, she and Hanna now had direct connections to Alison and her three woman posse from high school. She chuckled to herself thinking of the five of them being friends._ No way._

"How did she get that job anyway?" Aria asked.

"Hanna makes connections like Alison made enemies," Emily answered without thinking through her analogy. "Shit."

"Don't worry about it," Aria waved off the comment. "She knows what she did. Water under the bridge." She glanced down at her cell phone and said, "I'd buy you another cup of coffee and chat more, but I've got to get to work."

"Are you still coming over later, Aria?" The voice Emily had only heard in her head for the past two weeks spoke from over her shoulder. Instead of jerking her neck to feast her eyes upon the ghost who haunted her thoughts, she sank further back into the chair and swung her feet up onto the seat of the chair next to her.

"Yeah, of course," Aria replied to the woman Emily could almost feel breathing down her neck. "I'll call you when I'm on my way."

Alison must have nodded, waved or mouthed goodbye, because Emily was the only one to speak, "Bye, Aria." The blonde glided through her hazy peripheral and into her direct line of sight. Wearing an unreadable expression, Alison, clad in a short loosely fitted light yellow dress with a thin brown belt, stood behind the chair Emily's feet occupied. "Hi Alison."

"So you're not dead," the woman commented with fingers wrapping around the top of the faded green metal chair.

Other than her mouth, Alison's features remained frozen. Unable to gauge the blonde's mood, Emily tossed back, "Are you disappointed?"

The right corner of Alison's mouth flickered before she said, "You haven't been to a meeting in two weeks."

"I actually have. I had to switch days," the brunette replied a little too quickly. Only rehearsed answers nearly trampled upon a veiled or even blatant accusation. Alison wasn't an idiot. Her eyebrows shot up as Emily added, "Tuesdays aren't good for me."

"What day did you switch to?"

"Stalk much?" Emily said lightheartedly. The teasing rebuff slapped life into Alison's face. Since Emily had very little experience in the art of Alison face reading, she could only wonder what thoughts churned in the blonde's head. She could be concerned about Emily's recovery or she could have been offended that Emily didn't show up when she said she would.

"It was just a question," the blonde mumbled with a little too much bite for Emily's taste.

Smiling broadly, Emily tried to dowse any flames rising between them and joked, "Did you miss me?"

Alison replied with a smirk, "No one was around to spill my coffee." Tapping the chair, she asked, "Can I sit?"

"Where will my feet live?" Emily replied gesturing to her boots at the end of her exposed long, thin legs.

"On the ground where they belong?" Alison suggested.

Groaning and dramatically flinging her feet onto the pavement, the brunette complained, "Way to decrease my comfort level. That's no way to treat a customer."

"You remembered that I own this place. Did you come here looking for me?"

Emily propped her an elbow on the table and smashed her fist against her mouth. Yes, she had come here for Alison, but she shouldn't have. Shielding her mouth from view, she mumbled through her fingers, "Nah. I just moved back to town from Philly and needed some coffee. Plus, I spent a lot of time here in high school. There are good memories here."

"I wouldn't peg you as the sentimental type," the blonde commented.

"I have my moments."

Alison's body relaxed into the chair. From the looks of her right leg neatly crossed over her left and her forearms resting comfortably on the wire chair arms, she intended to stay awhile, "What other high school moments do you not mind reliving?"

Emily dropped her fist from her face and she lightly drummed on lid of her coffee, "One of them actually involves you and some spillage. It's pretty funny."

"Funny to the general population or just you?"

Instead of answering the question, the brunette smirked and began, "I have this extremely vivid memory of you in school. This guy, Lucas, ran into you and splashed his drink on you."

Casting her gaze upward, Alison laughed, "I actually remember that. He was wearing an obscene orange pumpkin shirt. Seriously, it was vile."

"Well," Emily took a sip of her coffee, propped her elbow back on the table and expounded, "What you didn't know is that I actually tripped and bumped into him and _then_ he tripped and bumped into you."

"So in a way, you spilled that drink on me."

Emily nodded triumphantly, "I hoped it would stain the white pants you were wearing."

"Bitch," Alison barked. Although she chose a harsh word, her eyes laced it with a friendly endearment.

"Takes one to know one," Emily quipped with a smile as she dropped her chin into her hand.

Alison mimicked Emily's posture and they both stared at one another with elbows propped and chins cradled in their hands. The blonde queried, "Were you like this in high school?"

Surprised by the woman's first attempt at a personal question, Emily asked, "Like what?"

"Cocky, bitchy, sarcastic…"

"Like you," the brunette stated it as a fact, not as a questionable assertion.

Before the blonde "ignored' the comment, the corners of her mouth plunged downward. The micro expression almost went unnoticed as her mouth snapped back like a rubber band and she offered, "I just feel like two people with our personalities would have butt heads in school."

"You mean crashed into each other and set the building on fire?"

"Yes. Rosewood wasn't big enough for two cocky bitches."

Emily chose to do something she never thought she would do. She stepped away from the meaningless joking back and forth and tiptoed into a serious conversation with Alison DiLaurentis. "Although I'm tempted to continue exchanging barbs, I'll answer your question honestly."

Alison tried to respond sarcastically, but her eager tone betrayed her, "That's so sweet of you. I feel so special."

"Don't push it," the brunette delayed her step into unknown territory one last time.

"Fine. I'll be good."

After taking a deep breath, Emily said, "No. I wasn't like this in high school. I was quiet and shy, almost mousy. If I wasn't on the swim team, I probably would have blended into the walls. Hanna was always there for me though."

"Hanna?"

"Hanna Marin. Blonde. Looks like you from certain angles."

"Huh. Doesn't ring a bell." Emily snorted at Alison's ignorance. At least once a week, the bullying blonde went out of her way to call her friend 'Hefty Hanna'. "What's so funny?"

Emily took a sip of her coffee and said, "It's mind boggling how many people know you and how few you remember."

"Remember?" Alison cocked an eyebrow at the word. "How can I remember someone I never met? You, for instance, I never met you."

An encounter Emily never planned to reveal flew from the quarantined section of her brain and out through her mouth. "Actually we did meet, sort of."

Shaking her head, the blonde assured, "No, that's not possible. I couldn't have forgotten you."

_Dammit Alison_. The blonde's blue eyes bored straight through her companion. Emily didn't miss, and Alison didn't want her to miss, the word "couldn't". Accompanied by the gaze, "couldn't" suggested the actual inability for Emily's existence to disappear from Alison's memory. She meant it and that was the problem. "In your defense," Emily answered abruptly trying to break the spell, "you never actually saw my face."

Alison exchanged intensity for amusement, "This sounds like it's going to a creepy place."

"Wait for it…" With that day many years ago still remarkably fresh, Emily began, "I went into the girl's bathroom and I heard someone talking on the phone. She was really upset. She must not have heard me come in because she kept talking and eventually crying." A passing glance at Alison assured Emily that the blonde remembered this as clearly as she did. "So I did what any normal human being would do: I knocked on the stall door and—"

"You asked me if I was okay." Emily gladly relinquished the floor and listened as Alison continued with her version. Her eyes fixed on the table, she squinted as if searching for the right words to accurately describe their meeting. "You actually sounded… concerned. Your voice was meek, not like now, not confident. I said I was fine," she smiled and glanced up at Emily, "but you wouldn't leave the stall door. You asked if you could do anything to help. I remember being pissed that you wouldn't leave. I wanted to snap at you but your voice was so sweet and sincere. I wasn't used to people talking to me like that."

"You actually told me what was wrong," Emily reminded.

"I guess I felt like I could. I assumed you didn't know who I was. Quiet people tended to be scared of me so I figured you would have run away if you knew who you were talking to."

"Oh," the brunette leaned back in the chair and folded her arms behind her head, "I definitely knew who you were." She spoke causally to steer clear of any vulnerable territory, "I just figured you might not ever tell your friends about it because they expected you to be this poised leader of the group. And… everyone else was afraid of you so I basically guilted myself into staying."

Only Alison's face revealed how much Emily's words touched her. She chuckled, "We talked for fifteen minutes."

"Yeah, you made me late for class. Thanks for that."

"Oh my god," Alison declared, "You told me your name!"

"Yup," Emily agreed. "My first name. And of course, you didn't give me your name."

"I couldn't," the blonde shrugged as as she explained the reasons as if they were just as valid now as she thought they were back then. "I was worried about my precious mean girl reputation. I couldn't have a rumor started that Alison DiLaurentis was crying in a bathroom stall. Plus," she paused just long enough to ensure that Emily was looking at her, "I told you everything. I… I had no idea what you were going to do. I couldn't tell you who I was."

"I was actually terrified that you would pop out of the stall and not so nicely swear me to silence." When Alison smiled at Emily's admission of fear, the brunette found herself wearing the same expression. Alison didn't smile out of pride at her ability to scare the high school version of Emily, but instead she exuded a general amusement picturing Emily—funny, cocky, deflective Emily—being afraid of anything. "When I thought you were done talking, I sprinted out of the bathroom like my life depended on it."

Thoughtfully, Alison noted, "You know, you sound nothing like that girl in the bathroom. I would never have guessed it was you."

"I'm not," Emily replied. She shifted uncomfortably in her chair and admitted with disappointment, "I'm not that girl anymore." Sometimes, she missed that girl, but she was too open and naive and gentle. Things had happened to her that stripped those qualities from her core. She was long gone, like a dream you could only recall pieces of no matter how desperately you grappled for the whole picture.

"What happened to her?" the blonde asked. From the look on her face, Emily could tell that Alison thought there was only a slim chance that she'd get an actual answer.

Bravely, Emily replied with a sigh, "I usually tell people that she just grew up but… I think she's hiding in a bathroom stall somewhere." She hadn't realized that her hands had drifted onto the table until the blonde dared to lay four fingers on the top of Emily's right hand.

"Well…" Alison gulped as she stared at their hands prepared for Emily to pull away. "Do you want someone to find her?"

"Em! There you are!" Emily heard Hanna yell from over Alison's shoulder. As the grinning blonde drew closer, Emily slowly retracted her hand and grabbed her coffee. She plastered on a smile. Hanna's face immediately fell when she realized who was sitting beside her friend. "Alison?!" Her eyes darted to Emily. Hanna's angry face was rather frightening. It was like staring down a cute blonde angry gremlin on crack. One of Emily's favorite and least favorite attributes of gremlin Hanna was that she basically yelled anything on her mind. "Emily! What the hell are you doing with her?!"

The brunette groaned and rubbed her hands over her face. _Fuck. Me._

* * *

**Oh, Hanna.**

**I know nothing really happened, but at least Emison got to chat—a real chat!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hi! So, if you like confrontation and angst, you'll love this chapter. If not, try and enjoy it anyway. It's nice and long!**

**Thanks again for the follows, favorites and comments. You guys are awesome.**

* * *

"Are you Hanna?" Alison pointed at the infuriated blonde. Emily chuckled at Alison's refusal to be intimidated by her friend. She didn't flinch or stutter, she simply asked a question. When Hanna answered with a terrifying and deafening silence, Alison turned to the brunette, "Is this the friend you mentioned?"

Locking her arms across her chest, Hanna didn't give Emily a chance to reply. She spat, "You must not recognize me now that I'm fifty pounds lighter." Alison's eyes blinked rapidly at her sudden recollection of the fuming woman. She rose from her chair and gently pushed it back underneath the table as Hanna blustered, "You called me Hefty Hanna in high school. It did wonders for my self esteem." She jerked her thumb gesturing away from the coffee shop and ordered, "Emily. Let's go. Now!"

"Hanna. Please," Alison spoke up loud enough to be heard, but not loud enough to sound demanding. She asked, "Can you give me a second?"

While Hanna's rage gave way to annoyance, Emily suggested, "Just a second, Han. C'mon."

"Fine," the blonde conceded. She arranged her handbag neatly in the crook of her arm. Gazing condescendingly at the former queen bee, she allowed, "You may speak."

Emily winced and rolled her eyes. Hanna was baiting Alison. Fortunately, the other blonde disregarded the tone and apologized, "I am truly sorry for how I treated you. I'm not proud of it. I was a total bitch."

With a shrug, Hanna said, "We can agree on that, but I can't do anything with sorry."

"Seriously, Han?" Emily intervened. "What else is she supposed to do? Buy you gifts as a peace offering?"

Not opposed to the idea, Hanna threw a sarcastic smirk at Alison and said, "Gifts would be nice."

"How about a couple tubs of Chunky Monkey?" Emily joked.

Hanna's head whipped around. Making a crack about an ice cream that played a part in Hanna's weight gain that earned her the nickname didn't help deflate the situation. The blonde towered over Emily, who was still seated, and growled through gritted teeth, "Emily _fucking_ Fields."

The unfazed brunette clarified for Alison, "That's not my middle name by the way."

"Unbelievable!" Hanna grumbled as she dropped her handbag on the table with a clunk. She then yanked out a chair and collapsed into it.

Emily had a nagging feeling that her friend's anger wasn't solely fueled by a high school nickname. Since Hanna obviously wished to ultimately divulge the actual issue, Emily asked Alison politely, "Can you please let Hanna and I squabble like siblings alone?"

"Yeah, sure." The blonde beat a hasty retreat. As Emily and Hanna started hashing out Hanna's real problem with the former mean girl, Alison glued herself to a wall just inside the front door within earshot, but completely out of sight.

* * *

While Alison may have abandoned her bullying ways, she still hadn't strayed from the bad habit of poking her nose where it didn't belong.

"Look. I know this isn't just about the stupid nickname." The blonde heard Emily insist.

"Of course it's not," Hanna agreed. "I'm hot as hell. I've gotten over the shock of having to deal with the chick who tortured me in high school."

"You're also modest as hell." The hidden blonde chuckled at Emily's retort.

"Can you put on your serious face for two seconds?"

"Only if you get rid of your freaky angry Hanna face."

"You know you need to stay away from her right now." Alison couldn't help but gasp at Hanna's words. "She's engaged and the anniversary of—"

"She and I are adults, Hanna."

"And you're an alcoholic with really specific emotional triggers. If the switch is flipped and you manage not to drink, you have sex with the nearest female body you can find."

The blood drained from Alison's face. Those two sentences startled her. Hanna implied that Emily was not only unstable, but prone to substitute sex for alcohol. She found it ironic that Emily had given her a hard time about caffeine.

"That's an exaggeration and you know it," the brunette replied in a shaky voice.

"Fine," Alison could hear the shame in Hanna's voice, "I'm sorry."

"You know that I switched meeting days so I don't have to see her."

A small, wise voice in Alison's head begged her to leave. She would regret staying.

"And yet here you are outside a coffee shop that she owns."

"We live in this town Hanna, this tiny, incestuous town. We're both going to see her."

"Well, you're going to have to figure something out because you'd have to be blind to miss the fact that you want to screw her." The eavesdropping blonde's chest tightened. _Leave now._ "Do you even like her as a human being?" The rest of Alison's muscles tensed and she held her breath waiting for Emily's answer.

"Geez. No need to be so vulgar."

That wasn't expected. Emily brushed off a brutal accusation and insulting question. Of course she liked her as a human being. She potentially liked her as far more than that—Alison could see it written on her face when they talked. She waited for Emily to expound.

Instead, Hanna pressed, "So you're not going to deny it?"

Silence. Alison's pulse throbbed in her ears.

"Or answer the question?"

Painful, sickening silence again.

The blonde suddenly felt her stomach churn and kick up acid in the back of her throat. Emily's refusal to answer sliced at places in her heart she didn't even know Emily could reach. Every look and their three conversations now felt cheap and dirty. Perhaps it was all foreplay for Emily. Perhaps she had managed to fool Alison DiLaurentis. The pain morphed into animosity and she stormed out the back door as she yelled at an employee, "I'm going home!"

She knew it shouldn't hurt like this. She shouldn't be slamming the car door so hard the entire frame rocked sideways. The woman had an alarming amount of sway over her mood and emotions. As much as she wanted to peel away and hear her tires squeal, she'd probably end up hitting someone. Instead, she dropped her head on the top of the steering wheel and talked herself out of racing back to that table and whittling both women down to the size of toothpicks. The Alison from high school was suppressed, not gone.

After five minutes of grunting swear words, she calmly turned the key and pulled slowly out of the back alley behind her restaurant. The thought of seeing Spencer and Aria tonight cheered her up a bit. Those two always managed to lift her spirits.

* * *

"No denial or answer?"

Back at the table, the brunette still remained stoic and silent.

"That's what I thought," Hanna concluded.

The guilt of withholding the truth from Hanna weighed on Emily's heart like an anvil. They didn't lie to each other; they didn't keep secrets. The blonde earned Emily's complete transparence during the dark times of her recovery.

When Emily finally admitted that she might have a substance abuse problem, Hanna dove into every aspect of her life with scissors, tape and super glue. She snipped out the pain points and temptations, temporarily wrapped the gaping wounds with tape and ultimately guided Emily to a solution brandishing the glue. For months, the blonde treated her like a china doll, a shattered china doll that might develop cracks on top of cracks. As Emily searched for the pieces scattered within her heart, the jagged shards bloodied her fingers and sometimes shredded her palms to the point of retreat. Unfortunately, she retreated into a bottle and screwed on the lid behind her. She wanted to drown in the harsh, numbing liquid.

It was Hanna who scoured her apartment for hidden bottles and poured them down the drain in front of a frantic Emily, desperate for the liquid reprieve. She was dragged kicking and screaming to daily AA meetings and tricked into conversations with her sponsor. The first year of her journey of recovery was hell for her, or what she imagined hell might be like. Through it all, Hanna never left her side, never declared her a lost cause and never guilted her by reminding her that plenty of people trudge through terrible, debilitating times without a drink.

Emily loved her for it. She loved her for sleeping on a blow up mattress in front of Emily's front door to ensure Emily couldn't sneak out to buy alcohol. She loved her for lounging on the couch watching Netflix for hours on end. She loved her for sitting quietly listening to Emily scream in her face to just let her ruin her own life. The grilled cheeses, the long shopping trips, the road trips, the sports watching—all of these things and a multitude more earned Emily's unswerving devotion and unbreakable trust.

During these bleak times, Emily couldn't deceive her friend. Her struggle with addiction left her vulnerable and exposed. Now that she gained some semblance of control, she could hide things, but she hadn't exercised that ability until now. If she admitted that she had feelings for Alison, Hanna would storm in with her scissors, tape and super glue. Emily didn't want to deal, so she couldn't be honest.

With her head buried in her hands, Emily emphasized, "Why do you think I took your advice and switched meetings? I don't trust myself with her miles and miles away from her fiancé." Ashamed, but not too much to admit it to her friend, she said, "If she even hinted at the fact that she wanted—"

"To screw you back?"

The brunette nodded solemnly, squeezed the blonde's comforting hand gripping her arm and offered, "And then I wouldn't—I couldn't—ever see her again."

Brushing hair out of Emily's face, the other woman disagreed, "You can't really believe that you're capable of ruining a relationship. You're not that person." The brunette smiled in thanks as Hanna concluded, "I mean, I'm only giving you the fourth degree because of how this emotional crap could fuck up your sobriety. I don't think you'd go through with _it_."

"It's the third degree."

"Don't ruin the moment!"

Emily shook her head in amusement, "Just when I think you're a horribly verbally abusive friend, you say something nice."

"And then you make fun of me," Hanna said. She knew Emily well enough to know when her advice disguised as censure had been heard, not just tolerated. So she let the Alison issue drop.

"You make it so easy, Hefty."

"God!" Hana snapped and punched Emily in the shoulder with a chuckle, "I hate it when you do that."

* * *

As Alison, Spencer and Aria carried their dishes from the dinner table into Alison's kitchen, Aria said, "I saw Emily Fields today. Apparently, she just moved back."

"Emily Fields?" Spencer queried. She pointed at the suddenly irritated Alison, "_Your_ Emily Fields?"

"She owns Emily?" Aria laughed.

"She's nothing," the blonde mumbled through her teeth thrusting plates under water in the sink.

Aria glanced blankly back and forth between Spencer and Alison as she waited for someone to clue her in to Alison's sudden anger.

"She's a little lost, Ali," Spencer spoke up. While the blonde slammed dishes around in the sink, the brunette launched into an explanation, "Ali and Emily met two weeks ago. There was animosity, attraction, crushing and now apparently nothing. Why is there nothing?" she pointed the question to Alison.

Not looking up from the soapy dishwater, she stated, "She wants to fuck me. End of story."

"Wow!" Aria exclaimed with her eyes widening, "This went to a weird, inappropriate place really fast."

"That is unnecessarily strong language to describe her being attracted to you," Spencer noted. "Also, you don't even know that for sure."

Spinning around slinging the water dripping from her hands, Ali insisted, "Oh, but I do know for sure. I heard her and her friend, Hanna, chatting about it."

"You were listening to a private conversation?" Aria asked although not completely surprised.

"They were chatting about it?" Spencer scoffed. "Just publicly _chatting_ about Emily wanting to—"

"Don't repeat that," Aria pleaded.

"Arguing may be a more accurate description," Alison corrected. She planted her soapy palms on the island in the middle of the room and groaned, "The point is that she's only interested in me in a way that she can't have." Since she had found out Emily's true intentions, Alison had lost a good deal of interest in the brunette. She didn't appreciated being reduced to a sex object.

"Did you hear the entire conversation?" Spencer asked. "Oh and sidebar—don't eavesdrop on people's conversations."

"No, I didn't. I left when I felt sufficiently humiliated."

"So you're basing your declaration of Emily's intentions on a partial conversation?" Spencer questioned with a raised eyebrow.

"I heard enough!" Alison blurted. "It was gross the way Hanna put it and Emily didn't even bother to deny it!"

"It probably felt gross because it reminded you of high school and college," Aria offered.

"Except you were the one doing the sexual objectifying," Spencer concluded.

"You're not really the biggest fan of who you used to be," the other brunette added.

The blonde sighed in acknowledgement. She did feel as if the tables had been turned on her. Karma was coming to bite her in the ass with a fury. "That's becoming painfully apparent, Aria."

Across the room, Alison's phone rang. Being closest to it, Aria read the caller id and said, "It's Duncan."

"Can you hand me the phone?" Her hands still a bit moist from the water, she dragged them down the sides of her dress. After Aria handed her the ringing phone, she pressed a finger to the screen, raised it to her ear and greeted, "Hey babe. What's up? Are the guys boring you?" She smiled at his response. It was good to hear his voice. They hadn't seen much of each other lately. "Well, why don't you guys come over here. I wouldn't want you to have to suffer through karaoke. Plus, I'm sure Toby and Ezra wouldn't mind hanging out with their girlfriends." She paused. "Okay I'll see you in a bit. Love you."

As Alison hung up, Spencer groaned with a smile, "So our guys are crashing girl's night?"

"They're bailing on boys night, so we're even," Aria replied.

"And Duncan has been out of town a lot the past month. I'll take any time I can get."

"Are you okay?" Aria asked with concern.

"Yeah," the blonde assured her. "It's only for a couple more weeks."

When Alison glanced at Spencer, she could see the wheels turning behind her eyes. Any minute now, she will piece together a theory and—

"Is this why the Emily thing is such a big deal?" Spencer asked.

"I wish I knew, Spence. You'll know when I do."

* * *

About fifteen minutes later, Alison and the two other girls heard Duncan, Ezra and Toby walk in the door in the middle of a conversation. Before the guys entered the den where the three women sat, Duncan said above the laughter of his two friends, "At some point, one of us will have to tell you the strip poker story."

Interest immediately piqued, Spencer queried when they appeared, "Tell who the what story?"

"Well hey there, Spence," the man greeted. He walked to a seated Alison and pecked her on the lips, "And hello to you." When Alison patted an open cushion next to her on the couch, he sank down beside her and said, "Tell the guys a story from college. It's how we first met." He eagerly took the hand Alison offered him.

"How you and who met?" Alison asked.

"Me and…" Duncan quickly surveyed the room. Spencer and Toby occupied a love seat to his right and Aria perched on Ezra's lap on the other side of Alison on the couch. "Where did she go?" The three men glanced in the direction of the front door while the women shared a look of confusion. Two seconds later, the confusion turned to shock.

"I'm here!" a familiar voice answered. A tall, tan skinned brunette strolled into the room staring at her phone. "I had to make a quick call and I—" she looked up and froze like a deer blinded by the headlights of a semi-truck.

"Emily?" Alison almost blurted to drown out the trembling in her voice.

"Alison?" Emily didn't do as good of a job hiding her surprise.

While both women grappled with their individual reactions, Duncan asked, "You two know each other?"

Alison could feel her hand, intertwined with her fiancé's, beginning to sweat. Slowly, she unlaced her fingers and guided his hand to her thigh near her knee. His firm hand was usually comforting, but the awkwardness of the situation made it almost feel foreign and unwelcome.

Spencer mouthed to Aria, "This can't be happening."

Remembering Duncan asked a question, the blonde replied, "Yeah. We met a couple of weeks ago."

Delighted, Duncan said, "Awesome. Well, Em," he motioned to Alison. "This is the fiancé I was telling you about."

_Did he just say Em?_ Her fiancé knew Emily well enough to use the shortened form of her name?

Duncan pointed at an empty recliner to his left, beckoning his friend to sit. Emily replied smoothly, "And to think that I already knew her." The brunette flashed the couple a friendly smile.

From her tone and body language, Alison assumed Emily had fully recovered and conquered any initial discomfort. Aria managed to inconspicuously give her friend a reassuring touch on the arm. Determined not to let the brunette's presence rattle her, Ali commented sweetly, "Small world."

"Alarmingly small," Spencer added. Aria shot a death glare across the room.

With the three men completely oblivious to the tense atmosphere, Toby insisted, "You already told us the streaking sorry. You gotta tell us this one too."

Alison watched as Duncan turned to Emily with a questioning gaze, "What do you think?" Alison had heard many of her fiancé's ridiculous and embarrassing stories from his college days. They always amused her. This time, however, he seemed a bit hesitant to share because it apparently involved Emily.

The brunette tossed one leg over the other and threw her elbows onto the arms of the oversized recliner. She shrugged, "It's definitely not the worst story we have. It's appropriate for public consumption." That made Alison nervous. If there was a question of it being appropriate, this might end up embarrassing for more than one person.

"C'mon, tell it," Toby pressured. "College Duncan sounds way more fun that software engineer Duncan."

"Hey now," Ali smiled, "He's fine how he is."

"Why thank you," he replied with a playful kiss on the cheek.

"You do the honors, Duncan," Emily prompted. Alison glanced over to see the woman still unmoved, completely controlled. She wasn't sure what else she expected.

"Alright," Duncan clapped and rubbed his hands together signaling the beginning of the tale. "Em and I met at this house party and we were both trying to get the attention of the same girl."

Emily interrupted, "Let me preface this by saying that we were both drunk off our asses. We had crossed into idiot territory."

Spencer and Toby chuckled, Aria and Ezra smiled and Alison braced herself. Duncan proceeded, "We both talked to her at the same time and individually. She seemed interested in both of us, so we agreed on a perfect way to settle it. In our drunken wisdom, we started up a game of strip poker to try and impress her?"

"How is that impressive?" Spencer asked wearing the familiar face that appeared only when something didn't compute in her Hastings's brain.

"No idea," Emily answered with a snicker.

"Like Em said, we were wasted."

Emily reminded, "At least she was watching."

Duncan smiled, nodded and continued, "So people kept dropping out of the game before they got completely naked. I guess we were the most drunk, therefore the most idiotic in the group. Emily and I were the only ones left."

"It kinda turned into a game of chicken," the brunette smirked at the storyteller. Her words seemed to teleport them back to that night as they exchanged an amused glance.

"And I lost," Duncan admitted hanging his head.

"He wouldn't take off his boxers. Didn't they have planes on them?"

The group laughed as he responded with pride, "Yes they did."

Unable to help herself, Alison said to Emily, "So, you won. What were you still wearing?"

Emily smacked a hand over her mouth to stifle what would have been an explosion of laughter. With a raised eyebrow and a smirk, Duncan answered, "A thong and a sock."

There were laughs, chuckles and many jaw drops. Emily removed her hand from her mouth and shrugged as if it wasn't a big deal. Alison wondered if she was the only one forming a mental picture.

Spencer asked in disbelief, "You took off your bra before a sock?"

"Ballsy," Duncan commented.

"Seemed like a good idea at the time." Maintaining her composure, Emily added, "And there were no complaints." For the first time during the story, Emily made direct eye contact with the shocked blonde. There was too much going on in Alison's brain to read into the gaze.

Aria said, "I suppose the girl was long gone at this point?"

Duncan snorted as Emily shook her head, "Nope. She left with me."

Both Spencer and Alison exclaimed, "Seriously?"

"Well…" Duncan reminded, "She did see Em's…"

"Boobs," Emily finished. "She certainly did."

"You also got a few numbers that night, right?"

Nodding, Emily sighed, "That was a crazy night. Hanna should have stopped me."

"She was the fully clothed dealer," Duncan laughed. "And without that night we wouldn't be friends. So I wouldn't take anything back."

Steering the conversation away from the topic of a topless Emily, Alison asked, "How long were you two friends?"

Thoughtfully, her fiancé replied, "We were really good friends in college up until…" he glanced at a suddenly uncomfortable Emily. He continued, "We fell out of touch after—"

"We graduated!" Emily interjected. She furrowed her brows at Duncan sending him a warning. "People do fall out of touch when they graduate."

"Yeah, that's right," Duncan agreed unevenly. Alison knew both of them were lying, but she couldn't imagine why. It seemed to be more of Emily's secret than his.

"Hey guys," Aria hopped up from Ezra's lap and declared, "If you want some food, there are leftovers in the kitchen.

For the next half hour, everyone milled around in the kitchen making polite conversation and cracking inside jokes. Emily blended perfectly with the group. She really hit it off with Aria. The shorter brunette's sweetness complimented Emily's incessant sarcasm.

In the midst of a talk between Ezra, Spencer, Alison and himself, Duncan excused himself from the conversation and waved Emily into a room off the kitchen. Theories of what they could be talking about ran rampant through Alison's thoughts. Fortunately, she was able multitask between an actual conversation and an internal dialogue.

When Emily and Duncan reentered the kitchen both looking more serious than before, Emily waved to the group and said, "Well, I gotta head out. I've got a busy day tomorrow. Nice to meet everyone!"

Aria eagerly gave the departing woman a hug and asked for her phone number so they could meet for lunch within the next few days. Emily barely even glanced at Alison as she brushed past her. The frustration she'd be shoving down all day boiled to the surface and overflowed as she said, "I'll walk you out, Emily." The brunette didn't even turn around.

As Emily stayed two strides ahead of her, Alison tried to calm herself enough to have a conversation about this whirlwind of a day.

* * *

Swinging open her car door, Emily said, "Thanks for making sure I made it the twenty feet to my car safely."

Alison pushed past the woman, flung the door closed and slammed her back up against the door. Bug eyed, the brunette's eyes drifted left and right as the blonde scoffed, "Are you insane?"

"Umm occasionally," Emily offered with a weak smile as a last ditch effort to avoid a confrontation. After their talk at The Brew, she didn't want to end the day like this.

"I'm not being cute and flirtatious!" Alison snapped. Her arms were crossed and her nails dug into her skin. "Why the hell did you come to _my_ house with _my _fiancé?"

Emily could have launched into a full on explanation and verbalized everything playing out in her head. In the span of a few hours, she had spun through more emotions than she had in the past month. After lifting the edge of her mask to talk honestly with Alison a few hours ago, Hanna blasted her for even entertaining the idea of being with Alison. She had taken a walk later that night to clear her head and literally bumped into Duncan.

She had thrown herself into his chest and squeezed him tightly as his arms wrapped around her tiny body. Although she could fill books with all the things she wanted to say to him, she simply whispered, "I'm so sorry," into his ear.

He brushed his lips against her hair gently and replied, "I missed you, Em."

Although they embraced for only a few moments, his warm hands rubbing her back thrust her back to the last night they saw each other almost two years ago. He had held her like this, except she was crumpled on a white shiny tiled floor surrounded by a few bloody handprints. With blood on her hands and face, her body shook violently as she sobbed. She could feel the snot leaking from her nose and onto Duncan's shoulder. Occasionally, her lungs couldn't keep up with her ragged inhales and exhales as she coughed and wheezed.

Hanna clung to one of Emily's red stained hands and pressed her lips close to Emily's ear as she repeated, "Breathe, Emily. Please breathe. Breathe, Em."

Minutes later, her limp form sprang to life and she pushed herself from Duncan's embrace. Before the man could snag her wrists, she pummeled him in the chest over and over. He opened his body for her to abuse. She threw punches at his stomach, chest and shoulders. As her arms flailed and her fists beat against her friend, rage dried up her tears and she grunted loudly with every punch. She swore and muttered unintelligible words until the muscles in her arms began to burn.

Shifting onto her knees, she planted her palms onto her thighs as she tried to catch her breath. Her chest heaved as she tried to bring the world into focus. The first thing clearly in view was one of her hands, cut and bloodied. Hanna planted fervent kisses in her hair as she scooted against Emily's right side. Just before the hot tears gushed forth again, Duncan lifted her head up and promised, "Em. I'm not going anywhere." When Hanna pulled away to caress Emily's back, he placed his hands on either side of Emily's face and repeated, "I'm right here." As she dissolved into tears, her fingers desperately clung to his hands cupping her face. That's the night her world cracked and a cruel turn of luck or fate or whatever flung the pieces of her heart and life in every direction. It was the worst night of her life and she was drunk. Duncan had more than tears and snot on his blue hoodie that night.

Hours later, he left her in her apartment with Hanna and promised to see her tomorrow. He walked out with his own dried tears on his cheeks, puke on the front of his shirt, snot on his shoulder and bruises on his chest. She'd never see him again. She wouldn't let him see her. She blamed him. It wasn't his fault, but she blamed him and cursed him every time she lifted a bottle to her lips. Now here she was on a street in Rosewood and all she could do was hug him.

She finally leaned away and he smiled at her just like he used to. Neither of them brought up the past as he introduced her to Toby and Ezra. After a short chat, he invited her to his fiancé's house. He said he really wanted them to meet. She happily agreed and he gave her directions. As she drove, she could barely contain her excitement. She had Duncan back. She hadn't lost the only brother she every had. Of course, her optimism and delight came to a screeching halt when she looked up from her phone in the den and spotted Alison next to Duncan.

Everything was shot to hell. Now, Alison physically blocked her only escape route. She could tell Alison parts of the truth, but she couldn't afford to be vulnerable with this woman twice in one day. Keeping her voice even, the brunette answered, "I didn't know he was your fiancé. We ran into each other on the street and he invited me over. He wanted me to meet you." Her voice became pointed, "Because you are important to him and we used to be friends."

"Looks like he wants to be friends again," Alison seethed.

"Maybe," Emily shrugged. She was not in the mood for a full on argument.

"You know that can't happen."

Temper flaring, the brunette tossed her restraint to the wind, threw up her arms in disbelief and yelled, "Why does everyone think they can tell me what to do?! First Hanna and now you!"

Alison threw back, "Oh, it's completely ridiculous that Hanna doesn't think you should screw me!"

Shaking with anger, Emily screamed, "Were you listening to us?" Alison didn't budge or answer. "Are you kidding me?"

"I only heard part of the conversation!" the blonde interjected as if that made it better.

"Of course you did!" Emily thundered, "If you heard the entire fu—freakin' conversation, you wouldn't have even said that!" She took a breath and insisted firmly, "And it's none of your business."

"Except that it is!" Alison thrust her thumb to her own chest, "It's about me!"

Instead of spiraling down a black hole of pointless back and forth, Emily addressed the obvious concern, "I would never do anything! Ever…" Although still heated, the brunette saw the flames in the other woman's eyes subside. "I would never do that to Duncan."

Visibly disgusted by the answer, the blonde pushed herself away from the car and paced to the right, "So this is all about Duncan? Really, Emily?"

"That's not what I said," Emily spoke to the blonde's back.

The other woman whirled around and asked bluntly, "What were you two talking about in the other room?"

Emily's jaw clenched. Alison's accusatory curiosity was tipping her over the edge. Alison had no context on her and Duncan's relationship and no right to know about the conversation. "It's private."

"Do you know how messed up that is? You're having private conversations with a man whose fiancé you want to—"

"Alison!" Emily barked. She was at her breaking point. Alison had pressed all of her buttons. Knowing that if she saw the angry smirk on Alison's face she might explode, Emily squeezed her eyes shut.

"Well, I'm sure he'd thank you for not ruining his relationship."

The snark in Alison's voice kicked out a weak response of disbelief, "What is wrong with you?" When her eyes opened, the blonde wore a look of confusion. With a sigh the brunette reached for her door handle and mumbled, "I'm going home. Goodbye."

"That's it?" Alison breathed with irritation.

"Yup; that's it. Conversation over."

"Seriously?" Alison's voice shot up an octave.

Shifting through all her thoughts, hopes and fears surrounding the situation, Emily replied, "I can't give you the explanation that you want. So we're done for tonight."

Alison grabbed Emily's left arm and said, "So you're going to give me nothing?"

Unable to bear the pain the blonde's voice, Emily turned and studied every feature of Alison's face. She knew Alison was desperate and hurt. She matched those emotions with the tightening muscles in her forehead, one of them tugging the edge of an eyebrow upward. Her mouth remained straight but open slightly. Emily whispered, "I can't." Her gaze dropped to the blonde's left hand. She lifted the hand by four fingers and settled it between them. She nudged the diamond with her thumb as she concluded, "Do you understand why I can't?" She quickly dropped Alison's hand.

"Just give me something," the blonde pleaded. Emily recognized the confusion and fear on the woman's face as they struggled simultaneously.

Voicing a true desire, Emily offered, "I want to be your friend."

Maybe it was the way she said it or the words themselves, but Alison's entire face was engulfed by a grin when Emily spoke. She replied, "Why does that sound so cheesy?"

Astonished, Emily responded with a question of her own, "How are you not pissed anymore?"

Alison shrugged, "You're hard to stay mad at."

Wishing that was true, Emily snorted, "Tell that to Hanna."

"I'm still a little mad."

"I know."

A calm silence settled between them. After a few moments of dodging eye contact, Emily said, "I should get home. I'll see you around."

"Yeah, you will," Alison replied with a small smile.

Emily drove home trying to balance all the thoughts and emotions in her head. She didn't know that the blonde stood in her driveway alone for the next ten minutes battling with and finally admitting a truth to herself. Did it have something to do with Emily? Or was it something she'd known even before Duncan slipped the ring on her finger?

* * *

**So much angst! I promise I'm trying to speed ahead to happy times, but Emison is a little stuck in a not so enjoyable situation. I kinda like arguments so I had a grand old time writing it. Hope y'all liked it too!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Thank you so, so, so, so much for the warm response and enthusiasm for this story! I may not update quickly, but that's only because I'm a painfully slow writer. You guys wouldn't want to read the first thing I put on paper! I apologize for all of the typos in the last chapter. Lots of facepalming.**

**In order to balance out the angst, I give you fluff. Fluff is my weakness, but you guys and the characters deserve a little happy before the crazy starts happening.**

**Also, I made a certain character a complete asshole for the sake of the story, but I don't actually harbor hatred for the character. Just sayin'!**

* * *

Three days after the far too eventful day ending with Emily hastily driving away and Alison paralyzed in her driveway, the blonde parked carefully behind a car in the driveway of a small brick house. Tipping her sunglasses up to the top of her head, she gripped the handles of a small shopping bag in the passenger seat. She boosted the car door open with her sandaled foot. As she hoisted herself to her feet, bag and purse in hand, she surveyed the small house. It was the appropriate size, she determined, for one person.

Despite her insecurities the other night, the blonde felt remarkably confident and swaggered to the front door in her white sundress with a light blue floral print and faded denim vest. She rapped on the wooden door four times. She didn't hear a sound. She attempted to ring the doorbell, but pressing the small white round button wrapped in an inch of brushed chrome yielded only a soft click. Not at all put off and very impatient, she smirked and began pounding on the door yelling in a deep voice, "Emily Fields, this is the police. Let us in or we'll let ourselves in." She obviously had no idea if a police officer would say that, but she figured it sounded menacing enough.

She was right; she heard running and "I'm coming don't bust the damn door down, please!" Squeezing her lips together and holding her breath to stifle her giggles, Alison waited only a few seconds before she heard someone frantically unlock the door and swing it open.

A completely dumbfounded brunette clad only in very tiny and tight black sports shorts and grey tank top blurted out of shock, "What the hell, Alison?"

As Emily's gaping jaw quickly shifted to a grin, the blonde informed the woman, "Your doorbell doesn't work and I tried knocking."

"So pretending to be a cop was the next best thing?"

Glad to see Emily smiling, Alison said, "You think it's funny. Admit it."

Assuming the woman on her doorstep wanted to come in, the brunette made a sweeping gesture into the house, stepped aside and replied, "If I had opened the door to dudes in ties trying to sell me on Jesus, I wouldn't find it so funny." As she shut and locked the door, she added, "Oh and the doorbell doesn't work because I yanked the wires. I freakin' hate doorbells. That and dryer buzzers." She shuddered, "They scare the shit out of me." Alison turned to face her as she elaborated, "Everything is completely silent and then BLURT one of those damn sounds makes me jump ten feet in the air. No thank you I do not want a heart attack."

For some reason, Alison couldn't stop smiling. Hearing Emily talk about such random things as doorbells and dryer buzzers made her feel at home. It seemed as if this might be their first normal, everyday conversation.

"So what can I do you for?" Emily asked as she walked further into the house. "I do have an appointment in an hour so I don't have long." She glanced down at her clothes and pointed to her hair, "I have to make myself presentable."

"Oh, you have all the time in the world," Alison assured the other woman with a coy look. "I'm the client."

"What?" Emily's brow knitted together with confusion. "You're Vivian Darkbloom? A swimmer with a rotator cuff injury?"

Quite pleased with herself, the blonde slid her sunglasses off her head and nodded while putting them in her purse, "I'm pretty convincing aren't I?"

Folding her arms over her chest and shifting her weight onto one leg, Emily rolled her eyes, although clearly amused and answered, "You definitely had me fooled. How did you even know what to say? You were pretty specific. And the French accent?"

"Google and movies can do wonders can't they?"

"You're just full of surprises, Ms. Darkbloom."

"You haven't even scratched the surface," Alison teased.

"I like a good mystery."

"How are you enjoying this one so far?"

Emily scrunched her lips together and replied thoughtfully, "There's a few boring chapters, but I'm making it through." Alison couldn't miss the brunette's obvious visual inspection of her from head to toe. "The cover is nice though."

"You had it wrong the first night we met," the blonde noted with a smirk. "You're the insufferable one. Insults and compliments in the same breath?"

"I've perfected the method over the years," Emily replied as she eyed the small bag hanging off of Alison's arm. "Do you come bearing gifts?"

"Yes, I do," the blonde wiggled the bag off her arm and handed it to the other woman. "It's for my session today."

Intrigued, the brunette opened the bag gingerly. Her eyes shot up to Alison when she saw the contents. Pulling out black material, she asked, "You need three swimsuits, a pair of goggles and a swim cap for your fake session today?"

"Actually, you'll need them," Alison corrected.

"Okay. An observation and a question. There's only one of me and why do I need any of this?" Emily clearly wondered about the number of suits.

"I didn't know your size," the blonde snickered as Emily held up one to her body that clearly would swallow her whole.

"Seriously?" the brunette chuckled.

"That was a joke."

Emily glanced at the tags on the other two and replied, "Well, you got one right. Good for you."

"Why thank you."

"Now for the question…" Emily probed.

"You're going swimming."

"I am?" Emily's eyebrows shot up. "Why would I want to do that?"

Somewhat hesitant to respond, Alison began, "You used to swim. So—"

"So you figured I'd like to go swimming on a Saturday morning?"

Since Emily clearly wasn't going to settle for a half assed response, the blonde said, "I spoke with Hanna and—"

"You spoke with Hanna?"

"Emily…"

"Alison…"

"You wanna let me finish?" Alison made sure to smirk so as not to sound rude.

Emily narrowed her eyes and tucked her tongue between her teeth as she shook her head. She seemed impressed that the blonde had showcased her sarcasm and dominant inclinations.

"I spoke to Hanna and she said that when you lived in Philadelphia, you would sometimes swim when you got stressed out or…" her voice drifted off.

"Or what?"

"I was waiting for you to interrupt me." Both women exchanged understanding smiles. Since Emily could read between the lines, Alison saw no reason to call attention to the fact that she knew Emily was having a hard time the past few weeks.

"Thank you, Alison," Emily said sincerely. Alison filed Emily's grateful look of softened eyes and hints of a smile into a mental archive. Expression by expression, she'd master the art of reading Emily Fields.

"We need to hurry though. I could only reserve the pool until noon."

"Where exactly are we going? The only lap pool in Rosewood is at Rosewood High."

"That's where we're going," the blonde nodded.

"You're dragging me back to that hell hole?" Emily complained while laughing.

Holding up her hands in a surrender position, Alison answered, "I don't like it anymore than you do. I avoid that place like the plague."

"I guess we'll have to get through it together," the brunette began shuffling to the back of the house and yelled back, "Let me get this suit and actual clothes on and then we can head out."

"Alright," Alison replied. With Emily out of sight, the blonde felt free to take a peek at the house. Surprisingly, there was barely anything to look at. There wasn't a single piece of furniture in the den, only six cardboard boxes stacked in the middle of the room. "Oh my god," she laughed while reading the black words on some of the boxes, "Emily are there really three boxes of comic books in here?"

"Umm. Yes. Those are the most important and expensive three boxes in this house. I really should have packed them better." Alison poked her head into the kitchen to see a couple of open boxes and plates, pots and pans scattered all over the counters. Emily spoke again, "So I thank you for getting the goggles and swim cap, but I have to use my own. It's a thing."

"I'll try not to take that personally."

"Can you get them out of the garage? There in a box labeled 'sports something'."

"'Sports something'?" Alison laughed as she walked to what she assumed was the door to the garage.

"Whatever is written after 'sports' is probably illegible."

The blonde opened the door to a pitch black room. After fumbling for a light switch on the wall and flipping it upward, she couldn't help but gasp at the vehicle she saw in front of her. There was over one hundred thousand dollars of metal covered in beautiful red paint sitting in front of her. This is not the car Emily was driving the other night. She quickly found the box and snatched out the goggles and swim cap.

"Emily," she asked as she walked back into the house, "Do sports therapists make enough money to own a top of the line Porsche?"

"Oh. Umm. Well." Alison could here the woman stammering and clearing her throat. "I uhhh inherited it."

"You 'uhhh inherited it'? A Porsche?"

"Yeah," Emily came bounding into the living room in a longer pair of athletic shorts and a deep cut graphic tank top revealing the black swimsuit underneath. "Dead relatives give you stuff."

"Do they?" Alison asked skeptically.

With her eyes bouncing all over the room, Emily took the goggles and cap from Alison, shoved them into a small duffel bag and said simply, "Yup."

Alison knew Emily was lying, but didn't see the need to push it. She only joked, "Did you steal it?"

"You got me. I'm a stealer of Porsches," the brunette finally made eye contact with her guest as she waved Alison out the front door. The pair continued to chat amicably all the way to the school.

When they waltzed into the pool area, Emily took a long whiff of the air. "I missed this smell so much." They both set their bags beside the bleachers and Alison settled herself on the front row. Emily scoffed while stripping off her tank top and shorts, "You're just going to sit there and watch me?"

With a smirk, Alison replied, "What do you want me to do? Screw around on my phone?"

"No I meant," Emily snatched up the towel she brought, grabbed Alison's hand and coaxed her to her feet. "Are you going to sit _there_," she nodded to the metal bleachers, "and watch me?"

"Where else do you expect me to sit?" Alison asked enjoying the feeling of the brunette's hand in hers.

The swimmer tossed the towel on the ground near the edge of the pool and pointed, "Right there."

"Oh, no. I'm not getting near the water," Alison wagged her head. "I know what happens when people get near the edge. They end up in the pool."

"Relax," Emily dropped onto her backside and flung her feet over the edge and into the water. "I'm not going to push you in." She glanced up at Alison, "You're all dressed up—in a white dress. I know better than to mess up a women's make up and clothes. It's basically a death wish."

"Not happening," the blonde insisted.

"Just stick your feet in. You'll be fine," Emily patted the towel next to her throwing puppy dog eyes up at her friend.

"Not happening," Alison repeated despite those brown eyes staring up at her. This moment right here simply reinforced the decision she made three nights ago on her driveway. This tingling feeling never happened between her and Duncan. It never had.

"You know what," the swimmer hopped to her feet. She walked over to retrieve her goggles and swim cap. "I'm not getting into the pool until you're sitting down with your feet in the water."

Alison glared at her, "Seriously?"

"Seriously," Emily parroted as she wound up her hair and started shoving it under the cap. When Alison didn't make a move except to cross her arms over her chest, she stopped and asked, "Should I even bother putting this on?"

"Oh my god," Alison groaned as she stalked to the towel and sat down cross-legged.

Walking to a staring block two lanes from where Alison sat, Emily ordered, "Sandals off, feet in."

"Emily, really?" Alison threw back with more amusement than annoyance.

The swimmer sat down on the edge of the block and said, "Really. Feet in."

Emily was thoroughly enjoying teasing the other woman. Alison couldn't remember the last time she'd been involved in anything so childish. She loved it. "Emily Fields, just get in the damn pool and swim."

"Do you really think you're more stubborn than I am?"

Caving only because of the beautiful smile on the brunette's face, Alison groaned far too loud as she yanked off her sandals. "Fine. You win." She gently dropped her bare feet into the water and said, "There. Are you happy?"

"Yes… Very." Emily responded in a tone hinting at more than a simple word. Alison wished Emily could reveal what words tickled the tip of her tongue. Soon, maybe she would let herself speak openly.

"Then freakin' swim," Alison commanded.

Smiling, Emily stood up and secured her goggles. She took a deep breath and bent down into position. She held herself still for a few seconds and then leapt out and into the water. Alison knew very little about swimming, so she could only assume that was a clean dive. If it didn't look like a belly flop, she figured it counted as a dive.

As she watched Emily swim up and down the lane, she drifted off into her own thoughts as she tried to prepare herself for what was to come. She'd hardly slept since the Emily debacle three days ago. Her stomach felt twisted and knotted around itself and her brain ached from spinning in overdrive every waking moment. When Emily had driven away that night, Alison finally admitted to herself that by accepting Duncan's proposal of marriage she had settled for something wonderful and safe, but not passionate and exciting. Almost two years ago, Duncan dragged her out of her despair after being left broken hearted by her ex girlfriend. He put her back together, protected her and encouraged her as she struggled to stay sober. He fell in love with her, all of her. She fell in love with him, pieces of him.

His humor, smile and honestly immediately swept her off her feet. A few months into their relationship, his patience, kindness, selflessness and loyalty drove her past the point of no return. She knew he was the guy people waited a lifetime for. As their perfect relationship built on trust and admiration progressed, she never stopped to consider what was lacking. When he proposed two months ago, she eagerly accepted. She couldn't find a reason not to. She wasn't going to sit around and wait for someone better to waltz into her life.

Then came Emily: damaged, sarcastic, beautiful, mysterious Emily. After their heated exchange outside her house, Alison could no longer deny the gaping holes in her relationship with Duncan. One of which was the lack of communication when it came to addressing any perceived problems in their relationship. They never argued other than some quibbles. They both let everything slide. Put bluntly, Alison just didn't care enough to initiate a discussion that could result in an disagreement.

The other night, the overwhelming need to share her hurt, anger and disappointment with Emily drove her to chase the woman to her car. She needed Emily to hear her scream and wanted to hear Emily scream in return. It had been so long since she'd emotionally fought with someone that she almost veered the argument into a ditch, but Emily steered both of their comments on a road toward resolution, albeit a shaky one. They didn't tear each other down, they voiced their emotions and sought reconciliation, which they reached in a rather amusing way.

She and Duncan had everything a functional couple could want or need, but she didn't crave him. Yes, she needed his presence, support and love, but she didn't need his touch to coax life into her. She didn't wake up every morning overflowing with anticipation to feel his hand in hers or his lips on hers. She needed him in her everyday life, but she didn't ache for him to blanket her in pleasure.

With Emily, it was the exact opposite. She didn't know her well enough to trust or admire her, but every pleasure center inside her caught fire at the mere thought of her. Emily was a catalyst to her realization, but not the reason to destroy her relationship. She just recognized that she didn't have a burning passion with Duncan. What they had would never last. That was an issue totally separate from her unresolved feelings for the brunette who had barged into her life. Tonight, she was going to do something about it.

"Am I boring you?" Emily ducked under the lane divider separating them and swam toward the musing woman.

"Oh, I'm fine," Alison commented.

Emily hoisted herself upward and tucked her forearms over the edge to Alison's left. "I think I am," she noted with a smirk.

"This is for you, not me."

"Ah," Emily pushed herself back into the pool and tread water a few feet from the blonde. "Isn't that selfless of you?"

"It is," Alison smiled.

With a serious expression, Emily dipped her head downward as if trying to work up courage, "Alison. I… I need to tell you something. And I…" she breathed before looking back up, "I shouldn't…"

Very curious and a bit nervous, the blonde whispered, "Emily. You can tell me."

Weakly, the brunette asked, "Are you sure? Because I can't take it back. And I…"

"Please. Say it."

Glancing down one more time, Emily inched forward and sighed, "Okay." Before Alison could blink, the brunette snagged both of her wrists and yanked her into the cold water beside her.

When Alison surfaced, she sputtered, "Emily Fields?! Are you kidding me?!" She started splashing water in the laughing woman's direction.

"I'm sorry!" the brunette screamed over the noise.

"You're sorry?!" Alison yelled back. She kicked water and clawed at her blonde locks trying to get them out of her face.

"That's what I needed to tell you," she replied with a straight face, "I mean, after I pulled you in."

Alison's irritation surrendered to amusement. She didn't care about her soaked dress, her makeup or her perfect hair. She laughed right along with the brunette who had now pulled off her goggles and cap and set them outside the pool. "I'm going to kill you in your sleep."

"Oh really?" Emily swam closer to the woman who had stopped frantically splashing.

"Yes," Alison replied with a gulp. She was captivated by the small drops of water dripping down the brunette's face and off her nose and lips. She couldn't help but wish her fingers could trace the trails the water left behind.

"Do you plan on being close to me when I'm sleeping?" Emily teased as she settled two feet away from Alison. "Close enough to kill me?"

Regardless of her impulses, the blonde simply replied, "I have my ways."

"Huh," Emily said. After a moment of silence, the swimmer asked, "Why did you call Hanna?"

Jolted by the serious turn in conversation, Alison stammered, "I uh. Umm. I was worried."

"Worried?" Emily echoed with an unreadable expression.

"After the other day I just… I was worried," she struggled to explain. "I have certain things that settle me down if I ever get really upset. I figured you had to have one too."

"So Hanna told you and you went out and bought swim suits, goggles and a swim cap just to…"

"You know what," Alison replied.

"Yeah," Emily nodded. "I do. Thank you. Really."

Alison memorized and tucked away another notable expression on the brunette's face. "You're welcome."

"I have something else to tell you. Well, it's really more of a question."

"Shoot."

"Have you ever heard of waterproof mascara?"

"Oh god," Alison's hands flew to her face. She knew she probably looked like she was bleeding black ink from her eyes.

Chuckling, Emily swam forward. "Chill out. It's not that bad." She gently pulled Alison's hands away from her face. "Okay, I lied. It looks really bad."

"Hey!" the blonde slapped the other woman playfully on the shoulder.

Emily slowly brought her hands up to Alison's face. "It's nothing that can't be fixed." She cupped Alison's face in her hands and slowly rubbed the area beneath her eyes with her thumbs. "Close your eyes. Chlorine tends to sting." As Emily wiped off the mascara and splashed a little water under her eyes, Alison reveled in the swimmer's proximity and the tingling feeling of the brunette's fingers gliding across her face. She was glad her eyes were closed. She wouldn't trust herself if they were open.

"I need the pool for swim practice in half an hour," a voice called from a few yards away. Alison thought the voice sounded familiar and not in a good way. She was right. Her eyes opened to see Paige McCullers, who was now the swim coach of Rosewood High, staring down at the two of them with judgement shooting out of her eyes.

Taking Alison's hand under water, Emily swam toward the stairs as she answered, "No worries, Paige. We're getting out."

_Perfect_. _Just perfect._ Alison thought as Emily helped the sopping wet blonde out of the pool and strolled past Paige to the towel and sandals by the side of the pool.

As Alison stood there shivering, Paige commented, "You look like a drowned rat."

Alison was shocked that Paige spoke to her that way. Before she could snap back, Emily wrapped the towel around her shoulders and replied, "She's the cutest drowned rat I've ever seen and you can see through her clothes." She flashed a sarcastic smile at Paige and said, "I'm gonna go grab a couple more towels."

Actually relieved that Emily left her to her own devices, Alison settled into her overly confident stance and default defensive facial expressions.

Paige noted, "For future reference, that's not the proper attire for the pool."

"Sorry," the blonde apologized with a fake smile. "I didn't plan on swimming. Emily pulled me in."

Paige scrunched up her face in disgust.

With a pouting face, Alison purred, "Aww. Are you jealous she didn't pull you in and get you wet?" While on the phone with Hanna, Alison had been filled in on Emily's past with the current swim coach.

With a fixed jaw, the other woman replied with disdain, "I'm just sad to see that Emily has lowered her standards."

"You wish," Alison scoffed, "that they were lowered to the level of a chick who tried to drown her in this pool?"

"No. Lowered to the girl that treated every single person in this school like a punching bag," Alison remained composed. That wasn't anything she hadn't heard before. Paige continued, "I guess it's true. She really will sleep with anything that moves."

Alison threw back with ease, "Well, apparently you're in a lower category all together because she still hasn't slept with you. You do _move_ right?"

"At least I'm not engaged."

"Paige. Lay off," a perturbed Emily called out as she entered the room.

"I'm sorry, but—"

"Bullshit. You're not sorry at all," she commented when she reached Alison's side. "Please leave. We'll be out of here in ten minutes."

"What are you doing with her?" Paige asked Emily as if the woman in question wasn't standing two feet away.

"I don't defend my friendships or any other kind of relationships to anyone, especially someone who can't move on past shit that happened in high school," the swimmer spat back.

"You used to be a lot nicer."

"Ya know," Emily nodded before answering honestly, "The world can kick you in the teeth sometimes and I chose to kick it back in the fucking face."

"Well, you can do better than her."

Alison was completely fed up with Paige at this point. She opened her mouth to shred the woman to slivers, but Emily placed a hand lightly on her lower back and spoke instead, "You're right. I could _totally_ do better than someone who is successful, beautiful, funny, passionate and I found out today that she's very thoughtful. God, _what_ am I thinking?"

"She's engaged!"

"I never said we were together and I'll say this only once—we are not together."

"Actions speak louder than words."

"Really? Thanks, Grandma," Alison chuckled. "Thanks for the words of wisdom."

"Alright. You stay, Paige. We'll leave," Emily determined as she walked over to collect her and Alison's bags from the ground.

"I heard that's what you do now," Paige snapped at the swimmer. "You run straight into a bottle."

Alison smacked the woman across the face before she knew what was happening. She exclaimed, "How dare you?"

"Alison. Let's go," Emily stepped to the fuming girl's side.

"No," Alison insisted, "What human being says that to someone who has a drinking problem?"

"Alison. Seriously."

"Emily, no," the blonde exclaimed. "You can't let her talk to you like that."

"She's not worth it," Emily offered flatly. "She really isn't." She nodded toward the door and said, "Let it go."

With one last look of contempt searing through the swim coach, Alison pushed past the woman intentionally hitting her shoulder to throw the woman off balance.

Paige called out to the pair, "Maybe you two deserve each other."

Obviously not interested in forming an intelligent response, Emily responded as any irritated person pushed to the edge would, "Just shut the fuck up already."

Alison snorted as they walked into the hall, "That was mature of you."

"Like I said, she's not worth it."

"And you're stealing towels," Alison pointed out.

With a smile, Emily replied, "This is how I got the Porsche: one towel at a time."

The two women joked all the way to Alison's car. On the drive to Emily's house, Alison said, "Oh, I almost forgot to tell you. I'm hosting a charity auction for youth at risk for drug and alcohol addiction at my restaurant in Philadelphia on Tuesday night. You should come and bring whoever you can as long as they have money."

"Snob."

"Umm no," Alison disagreed with a smile, "Smart. I'm trying to raise money, not just provide free food."

"There's food? I'll definitely be there."

"Good. I'll look for you," the blonde replied as she pulled into Emily's driveway. "And it's formal attire."

"Are you afraid I'll show up in this?" she motioned to her tank top and shorts.

"Kinda."

"You just wait," Emily replied as she pulled out her bag from behind the passenger seat. "I clean up nice."

"I'll believe it when I see it," Alison smirked. She couldn't wait to see it and to actually tell Emily how beautiful she looked.

The swimmer eased her way out of the car and ducked back down to say, "Is this an art auction for stupid canvases with paint thrown on them?"

"It's for the youth who will one day shape the world," Alison replied sarcastically.

Emily rolled her eyes, "It still involves paying for splatters."

"No respect for Pollock, I assume?"

"If he splatters for a living, no."

"Okay," the blonde waved the woman away from her car, "Get out of here before I start lecturing you on art appreciation."

"I'm going!" Emily laughed as she shut the door behind her. She offered a small wave as she headed into her house.

As the door closed behind the brunette, Alison pulled out her phone and dialed her friend. "Hey Spence. You're still driving tonight, right? And Aria's coming?" She breathed a sigh of relief at the response. "Good. Thank you for this. I couldn't do it without you guys." She paused before smiling, "See you later, Spence."

A knock on her car window made her jump, "Holy shit." Emily smirked on the other side of the glass. Alison rolled down the window and replied with her heart still pounding from the scare, "Don't do that!"

"Oh I'll be doing it again. That was adorable."

"So. Did you need something else?" Alison queried.

Emily propped her forearms on the bottom edge where the window used to be and said, "I forgot to say goodbye."

The blonde felt herself blushing. This woman didn't cease to amaze her. "Well, goodbye to you too."

"And also, don't listen to the crap Paige said."

"I wasn't."

Emily cocked an eyebrow, "I don't believe you. She's totally wrong. I couldn't do better than you." Alison felt her throat close up trapping the air in her lungs as Emily continued, "One thing I told Duncan the other night is that he's lucky to have you."

"Oh…" is all Alison could manage to say.

"The rest of the conversation was about my recovery. He was checking on me. Apparently, Hanna had been talking to him for years without me knowing."

Surprised that Emily offered this information freely when she worked so hard to conceal it the other night, the blonde queried quietly, "Why are you telling me this?"

Emily shrugged to pass off her response as casual, "I don't want you to think that he or I have anything to hide from you. It's not fair for me to expect him to keep secrets from you."

The explanation rendered Alison speechless. She had no idea how strong of a bond Emily had with Duncan. It frightened her. Now she dreaded what would unfold in the next few days even more. "Thank you," she replied.

"No problem," Emily replied before adding, "You should go take a shower. You reek of chlorine."

"Yeah. I will," the other woman offered weakly.

Either Emily didn't notice how rattled Alison was or she chose to ignore it. She skipped back inside her house and once again left the blonde in a driveway contemplating a decision. However, there was no going back. Everything was just far more complicated that she originally thought, which she didn't think was possible.

* * *

Seven hours later, Alison sat shaking in between Spencer and Aria on a metal chair in a smelly school gym. The three women sat in the front row of several rows of chairs. Her leg bounced up and down as her eyes studied the glossed wooden slats on the gym floor. Spencer, on her left, tenderly pressed her left hand onto the blonde's jumping thigh and slid her right arm around the shaking women's back. Both of Alison's hands squeezed Aria's tightly. Although slightly worried Alison might actually crack her fingers, Aria held her hands firmly and she whispered in her ear, "Ali, you can do this. We love you so much."

As a man standing behind the podium told his story, Alison felt her dinner slide up her throat. She had never been this nervous in her life. Her high school classmates would never believe that Alison DiLaurentis would be afraid to speak in front of a group. As Spencer rubbed circles on her back, she focused on what she was going to say. She needed to say this. She needed to say things out loud that she felt she never could. Her terror stemmed from the fact that she might as well be standing up there naked. Actually, she might prefer just standing up there naked than having to speak.

The man stepped away and a group leader spoke up asking who wished to speak next. Spencer's hand shot up and she motioned to the pale, ghost faced blonde. The brunette who volunteered her kissed her cheek and pushed her gently to her feet. With rocks in her stomach and a desert in her throat, Alison shuffled to the front of the room and grasped the podium for support. _Just talk to Spencer and Aria. You'll be fine._ She tried to reassure herself. Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to look at her friends and she began, "Hi. My name is Alison and I'm an alcoholic." Spencer and Aria smiled. Alison couldn't help but notice tears pooling in Aria's eyes. She continued, "I'm about to do a terrible thing that I should have done a year ago."

Spencer nudged Aria when she paused and asked, "Did you know she wasn't wearing her ring?"

As Aria shook her head violently with a look of confusion, the blonde said, "I have to break my fiancé's heart and right now I'm afraid I'll be drinking for months after I do it."

* * *

**Yes. That's a cliffhanger. :)**

**Once again, fluff is my weakness, but I hope it was satisfactory.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Surprise: an update!**

**This a bit shorter than usual, but it needed to be standalone. The next chapter would completely ruin this if I shoved them into one.**

**All the Alison feels.**

* * *

A fog settled over Alison as a black veil distorted her view of her friends and all of the attentive faces in the crowd. The words pouring from her mouth somehow formed complete sentences as her fragmented stream of consciousness bulldozed over her prepared speech. Although she spoke clearly, her hearing drifted in and out of focus like a siren screaming loudly then fading to a whisper then slowly crescendoing to a wail.

She remembered explaining her relationship with Duncan and the reasons she locked away her doubts for so long. Safety, loyalty and being loved trumped all the desires she suppressed so she didn't feel an emptiness. She described his support through her recovery and how she realized that obligation kept her faithful.

After sharing what she assumed to be far too much detail, she teleported the group to her past and the origins of her drinking problem. Feeling slightly more confident, the haze lifted and she saw every eye focused on her. She saw no judgement or pity, just a sincere empathy and traces of hope.

"I never was much of a binge drinker," she sighed. "I threw up too much. Lying like a pathetic animal on a bathroom floor only reminded me that I had a problem. So, I decided to just be tipsy pretty much all the time." Her pointer finger absentmindedly drew circles on the podium as she elaborated, "There might have been a few days I would wait until two or three in the afternoon for my first drink of the day. Oh," she realized, "I guess why I drank so much is important. I umm…" she glanced over at her friends for the look of support that she needed. She wasn't surprised to see Aria on the verge of a tearful breakdown and Spencer now sitting next to the woman and desperately trying to hold her together.

Alison choked back emotions of her own. Recounting the source of her alcoholic spiral involved the two women in front of her, the two women who should have tossed her to the side in high school. "I… I…" she cleared her throat and swallowed her gratefulness threatening to spill out and began, "In high school I was the bitch every girl was afraid of and every popular guy wanted to screw. According to my therapist, I had low self esteem and therefore needed to cut everyone down to feel better about myself." She took a deep breath and huffed shaking her head, "But I think that's bullshit. I think I was just a mean person. Some people are just freakin' mean. These two women," she pointed at Spencer and Aria, "were my only friends and I uhh…" she had to clench her jaw tight and hold her breath to keep from crying. She couldn't remember the last time she'd felt so alone, yet so loved. "I'm sorry," she apologized to excuse her behavior as she sucked a build up of liquid from her sinuses down to the back of her mouth and swallowed to force it down her throat. "I dragged them around like puppies that I could control and kick around whenever I wanted. I think they stayed with me because I protected them from everyone else. I don't really know." Now Spencer was holding back tears as Aria wept openly but quietly. "I had my good moments," Alison smiled at the two. "I think." Both women nodded at her claim.

"I think it was my junior year in college that I started going off the deep end. My loose reputation—I did sleep with several college age boys and girls in high school—followed me to college. I was stupid enough to think that I could leave that shit in Rosewood. Of course, the rumors of my incessant bullying piggybacked on my 'slut status', as I called it. Then the tables were turned. Everyone figured I could handle cruel jokes and constantly proposed hookups. My friends were at different schools, so I didn't really have anyone to go to so I started drinking. At first it was every other day, then every day, then three or four times a day."

She smiled broadly as she continued, "Then I met this really great girl at the beginning of senior year. She was driven, beautiful and funny. She could always make me laugh. At this point, I was already neck deep in my constant drinking. I was pretty much completely functional, so it wasn't until we got serious that she noticed. Too put it lightly," Alison bit her bottom lip as if it pained her just to think of it. "She wasn't happy. She wasn't okay with it. She made it very clear that she couldn't be in a relationship with an alcoholic. Ya know," she smirked and cast her eyes upward, "that was the first time anyone ever called me an alcoholic. I was head over heels in love with her after a few months so I was willing to do anything to keep her at this point.

"She helped me throw out bottles and blah blah. You guys know how it goes," she gestured to the group. Almost every single head bobbed up and down with small smiles reflecting their own experiences. "Of course, I wasn't ready to give up drinking. You can't stop drinking for someone else and I didn't see the problem. I just got a little better at hiding it. And again," she addressed her peers, "you know what I'm talking about: mouthwash, eating strong smelling meals afterwards, wearing strong perfume, and plenty of other things. I went to meetings with her and cried when I thought it appropriate. I thought I had her completely fooled.

"She found my stash a few days after graduation and she went ballistic. I, of course, was basically drunk so I told her everything. She was crying; I was crying. And I remember," a single tear slipped past her defenses, "I remember how terribly guilty she looked. She walked out without an explanation and came back maybe fifteen minutes later. She told me that she was really sorry, but that she couldn't be with someone who refused to help themselves and then she just walked out. About two hours later, Aria," she pointed to the crying brunette, "showed up at my door and Spencer walked in a few hours later." She clasped her hand over her mouth.

Part of her cursed herself for getting so emotional over something that happened so long ago, but when she shoved herself back to those moments where she felt so powerless and broken, her heart couldn't help but crack a little. She dropped her hand from her mouth after composing herself, "My newly ex girlfriend had stepped out to call my friends and tell them to come take care of me. Aria told me that she couldn't leave me without knowing someone was on their way. Anyway," she flattened her palms on the podium, "I won't go into the whole dealing with a breakup thing, but it was during that time that I decided to get my shit together. And… that's also when I met my fiancé. So, we've come full circle." She breathed a sigh of relief. "I hope that standing up here and talking for way too long will keep me from slipping back into morning shots and lunch cocktails and evening mixed drinks." She patted the wooden stand, "That's all I guess. Thanks for listening."

As soon as she stepped away, her vision clouded again. Revealing her darkest times to strangers rendered her as frail as a brown leaf waiting to be crunched by an oblivious passerby. Instead of returning to her seat, she practically stumbled toward the exit with her friends shuffling a few feet behind. When she spotted the door to the ladies' room, she thrust open the door and threw herself into a stall before releasing every ounce of stress and fear. The disgusting sound of her gagging and grunting coupled with the repulsive smell of the vomit forced even more acid out of her stomach and into the fortunately clean porcelain bowl. It wasn't until she came up for air that she felt Spencer's body pressed against her from behind with her hands holding her hair out of her face and Aria's tiny body wedged beside her in the claustrophobic stall.

As Alison struggled to a sitting position and leaned her back against the side of the rectangle box, Aria wiped her lips and chin with rough toilet paper. She tossed it into the toilet and flushed the filth out of sight. "Ali," the small brunette whispered, "here's some water." She floated a plastic bottle near the blonde's shaking hands.

When her physically and emotionally weakened friend didn't move, Spencer, who shifted to sit beside Alison, pressed, "You need to drink. Please. I don't think you want to face-plant onto this floor if you pass out."

A smile stretched her pale lips across her face. Spencer always did know the right motivator. The thought of her face on this floor stirred some left over acid begging to escape her body. She feebly clasped the open bottle Aria offered, settled its lip between her teeth and tipped it upward. The cold liquid snagged bits of leftover putrescence and dragged them across her tastebuds. "Ugh," she choked, "Gross."

"Please don't throw up on me," Aria begged sitting only feet away from her gagging friend.

"I'm doing my best," Alison's face contorted as she took a few more swigs of water. "This throwing up thing was not a part of my plan."

Neither of her friends spoke. The blonde wasn't sure if they didn't know what to say or if they were afraid to push her for more information. Aria pressed her lips together to form her signature look of understanding and Spencer settled a hand on her friend's thigh.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you about Duncan," Alison mumbled. "I just didn't want to say it twice."

"You brought us here, Ali," Aria reminded. "You did tell us." Taking a closer look at the girl's face, Alison noticed tear tracks staining the girl's cheeks. What would she do without this encouraging, forgiving and hopeful woman?

"You're not the most forthcoming person," Spencer said. "I never expect lengthy speeches about your feelings unless one of us literally drags them out of you. And that's why I love you," she added as she chuckled, "Aria has enough emotion for the three of us. The two of you would sink our friendship boat with your combined tears."

"Hey," Aria resisted. "I'm not that bad."

"Aria," the blonde's eyebrow shot up, "You almost dissolved into a puddle in there. I was afraid Spence was going to have to mop you up."

"That was emotional," the woman defended herself humorously.

Their small laughs subsided within a few seconds and silence once again hung in the air. After a full minute of each woman contemplating their own versions of tonight's events, Spencer commented, "We can try and squeeze ourselves out of this stall."

"I have to break up with him," Ali said.

"We know," Aria nodded. "And we're here for you."

"Do you think I'm right?" the blonde asked desperately. As much as she feared their opinions, these two women earned the right to speak openly regardless of their positive or negative views of her actions.

"Yes," they both replied simultaneously. The two glanced at each other looking surprised that they both felt the same way.

"How could I disagree with you?" Spencer asked. "If you're not in love with him, you'd be cruel to go through with marrying him."

"You're finally being honest with yourself," Aria added. "That's a good thing."

"Duncan just happens to be…" Spencer's voice trailed off.

"The victim," Alison concluded.

"Just one thing, Ali," Spencer offered. "When you break up with him, don't act like he's a dog you hit with your car. That will only make it worse for him."

"Okay," the blonde nodded and said resolutely, "Let's go."

"You want to go home?" Aria asked. "Or you can come to my place."

"No, I wanna see Duncan."

"Right now?" the taller brunette asked in disbelief as she rose to her feet and heaved the other two women up behind her. "You're going to do this right now?"

"Yes," Alison said as she walked to the sink and washed her hands.

"Ali, it can wait," Aria replied. "Maybe you can calm down a little and do it tomorrow."

"No. Tonight. I won't be able to sleep if I wait." She dried her hands with paper towels and strutted out the door. For some reason, bearing her soul, puking up her guts and briefly speaking with her friends resulted in a kind of adrenalin rush. She was determined to finally be honest and let her and Duncan more forward with their own separate lives. She loved him far too much to lie to him for even one more day.

"Okay then," Spencer conceded. "Call him and let him know you're coming."

As the trio piled into Spencer's car, Alison dialed her fiancé and cleared her throat before he answered. "Hey. Can I come over?" He responded in the positive and she smiled to keep her voice from falling, "Good. I'll see you in a few minutes." She hung up before they could exchange the habitual "I love you".

Less than an hour later, they pulled into Duncan's driveway. Alison hesitantly unbuckled. Her resolve had weakened over the course of the car ride. "We'll wait for you," Spencer said looking at Alison in the passenger's seat.

"Thanks," Alison mumbled as her hand clawed for the door handle. When her fingers found the latch, every sound seemed to pelt her eardrums and take on a life of their own. A drum stick whacked the head of a snare drum near her ear when the door clicked open. Aria's final words of encouragement came from a screeching bullhorn. A car smashed into a brick wall when she slammed the car door closed. As her heels clacked on the pavement, a sledgehammer pounded railroad spikes in the rhythm of her strides. The wind rustling leaves in the trees thrust her head into a wind tunnel.

She finally reached the door and raised her fist to knock. Silence. Not a single one of the four raps on the door made a sound. The door swung open to a smiling man offering a warm greeting as her auditory sense returned. "Duncan," she said. "We need to talk."

Spencer and Aria sat in silence only broken a few times by short comments on how the night was unfolding. Maybe five minutes after Ali stepped over the threshold and into Duncan's house, the blonde appeared at the door and closed it quickly behind her. She didn't run to the car, but she didn't walk. Breathing hard, she yanked open the door and pleaded, "Please take me somewhere that's not here."

Alison didn't hear the barrage of questions from her friends. It was done. She had crushed a man's entire world under sharp nude colored heels. He'd barely said a word and asked very few questions. After neither of them uttered a word for a couple of minutes, she retreated to the car and the comfort of her friends. She couldn't stand there with him, wading in the mess she'd made. He didn't seem to want anything from her, so she left him alone with a ring and broken promises. Although her heart throbbed with pain at the loss of someone she loved, her guilt taunted her and convinced her she had no right. Then the one thing she'd shoved so far down into her consciousness she feared it would be lost for months gently drifted to the surface. The thought of Emily roused hope but also fed her guilt. Despite the conflicting emotions, she desperately clung to the idea of the brunette eventually becoming a part of her life, rather than a bystander. She should have trekked through her dark days without pulling Duncan needlessly into her heart. She should have recovered alone. She should have waited for her.


	7. Chapter 7

**My goodness. You guys seem to like this so much that I feel a little pressure. I'm doing my best. By the way, actual Emison times are so close I can taste it. Seriously. So close. End of this chapter/next chapter close.**

**Oh and I make reference to a hilarious youtube video of a kid tripping on laughing gas. I think that's the actual name of the video (actually it's something like "David after the dentist"). Go watch it.**

**By the way, I sincerely thank you for the reviews, follows and favorites. Every fanfic writer will tell you how great it feels to see them.**

* * *

"Yes or no," a blonde batted her lashes at a tall brunette on her arm, "You called me up and lured me here with your charms because I have money to burn."

As the pair strolled down a sidewalk in the moonlight in Philadelphia, the woman replied, "Yes _and_ no. I knew you'd want to support the cause and…" she leaned into the blonde's ear and whispered, "I missed you. Kinda."

Scoffing, the blonde nudged her companion away with her hip, "Sure you did, Em. That's why you ignored a couple of my calls."

Emily dodged the other woman's attempted grab at her hand and complained, "Eww. Don't get pouty and needy. It's gross."

With a coy smile, the blonde replied, "Is it too much to assume that a friend would return another friend's calls?"

Snaking a hand around the woman's waist, Emily guided them forward while chuckling, "Cece, we've never been friends in the two years that we've known each other."

Cece swiveled in front of her _not-_friend, keeping the hand on her waist and teased, "Friends don't sleep together randomly when the other person calls them up out of the blue?"

Emily pecked the woman playfully on the nose, "Only you, babe. Only you." With Cece's eyes locked on her own, the brunette fondly remembered their relationship or lack thereof that started a few months after her college graduation. They met at an all time low in both of their lives and offered each other the only comfort they could stomach. For months, they entertained one another a few times a week. Each encounter was physical, but never intimate. Over time, a friendly type of bond lashed them together. They figured regular sex naturally birthed some type of trust and transparency, whether intentional or accidental.

However, months would pass without any type of contact until one spontaneously called the other and the cycle began again. Before Emily moved to Rosewood, they kept each other company at least once a week. With the hustle and bustle of the move, Cece completely dropped off Emily's radar. When Alison suggested she bring someone with affluence, her blonde "friend" immediately popped into her mind. Of course, it would be dishonest for Emily to claim she invited Cece solely for the sake of her money. The brunette desperately needed a buffer to keep her from undressing Alison with her eyes tonight. Having a date of her own might lessen the tension of her, Alison and Duncan in such a close proximity.

Emily might have been a touch too flirtatious with her new friend on Saturday, but she'd been shocked by Alison's thoughtfulness. True to form, she'd foolishly ran back to the blonde's car and proceeded to be a little too honest with her. At this point, the only way the brunette could think of to adjust Alison's expectations was to be even more honest with her by showing up with a date. It wasn't unlike her to show special attention to one woman and go out with another. She wasn't a heartbreaker, she just liked multiple women. That's not to say she couldn't be monogamous. She just hadn't attempted it since college.

"But seriously," Cece replied, "Thanks for thinking of me, Em. You know it means a lot to me."

"Then be prepared to pay for 'art'," she spoke the final word with air quotes.

"Ugh," the other woman groaned, "One of your many flaws: no respect for the arts."

"Oh really?" Emily's lips grazed the blonde's, "And what's another one?" Her right hand settled in the crook of her neck as her lips pecked from ear to to her shoulder.

Taking a step back, Cece replied, "Too much PDA." She grabbed the woman's other hand as they stepped into the restaurant. "Stop it."

"You won't be saying that later," Emily said knowingly. As an attendant slid off their coats, the brunette swept the room for any sign of a friendly face. Alas, the sea of at least one hundred faces blended together in a fleshy form with many sets of eyes.

"Hey, Em," the blonde spoke a little louder to be heard over the crowd, "Where's the ladies' room?" She licked her right thumb and wiped around Emily's lips, "My lipstick is on your face so I'm assuming mine is gone."

"I took it all," Emily smiled as she pointed toward the restrooms.

"Stay here. I'll be back."

"Yes, mom," Emily replied sarcastically.

"You know how gross that sounds, right?" Cece breathed against Emily's lips. The blonde knew her companion loved to be verbally teased and then denied less than an inch from her mouth.

As her date strutted away, Emily caught sight of Aria waving a hand enthusiastically as she dug her way through the swarm of bodies.

"Emily, hey!" she greeted the tall woman fondly, "Ali said you were going to be here."

"With money," Emily clarified. "I was instructed to bring that with me."

Aria nodded in the direction of the blonde's retreat, "Your friend's or your own?" Emily didn't miss the tiny drop in the woman's voice on the word _friend's_.

"Both, of course. It's good to see you again," Emily bent downward to peck the small woman on the cheek. "You look stunning." Although the dress itself was a standard little black dress, Aria had pinned her hair so her wavy brown locks settled perfectly over her right shoulder. Emily did prefer her new friend's casual edgy look, but her beauty didn't waver even in a simple dress.

Smiling, Aria replied sweeping her hands up and down in Emily's direction, "Thank you and so do you. Ali helped me pick out this dress." If it weren't for the stress on the name _Ali_ and her previous tone change on the word _friend_, the comments would appear innocent to the untrained ear.

Curious, but unwilling to directly address the topic, Emily replied, "Well, if Alison is the type to consistently upstage her friends, I'm expecting something spectacular from her."

"She's excited to see you," Aria offered while clearly wrestling her facial muscles from a grin to a polite smile.

Confused, Emily swiveled her head and searched the restaurant for the woman in question. It would be better to spot Alison before Cece returned, because her date could sense Emily's internal drooling from a million miles away. "Where is she? And Duncan? I don't see either of them."

The shorter brunette cleared her throat and began fiddling with the rings on her fingers, "Duncan isn't here."

"What? Since when?" Emily queried in disbelief. "I talked to him right after Alison invited me. I told him not to leave me alone with a bunch of rich people."

"Well. I think you should talk to Ali. I—"

"Hey beautiful," Cece approached from behind Aria and reached for her date's arm, "Thanks for waiting." Her hand froze before it could reach Emily and a look of dread pooled on her face at the sight of the small brunette, "Aria?"

"Cece. What are you? What—" Aria stammered now yanking at her rings nearly pulling them off her fingers.

"You two know each other?" asked the oblivious brunette.

Panicking, the blonde fumbled for Emily's hand as her eyes darted in every direction, "Is Ali here?"

"She organized the fundraiser," Aria replied. She sounded merely annoyed but her body twitched in alarm.

"What?" Cece squeaked. "Em," she implored her date who was squeezing her hand reassuringly, "Why didn't you tell—"

"What's going on?" Emily interrupted.

Spencer appeared between Aria and Cece and she addressed the blonde sternly, "You need to leave now before she sees you."

"I know," Cece nodded with understanding and urgency. "We're going. I had no idea. Please, believe me."

"Okay, seriously!" Emily fought to keep her feet planted while the blonde wrenched her right arm behind her pulling her toward the door. "Someone tell me what's going on!" In her mind, she was in the midst of a dramatic scene unfolding simply for the sake of the drama. She detested a lack of information when ordered to do this or that.

"Spencer, Aria!" a voice called out to Alison's friends crowding Emily. Spencer's eyes fell shut in defeat and Aria's eyes swelled with terror. Emily wanted to be happy to see Alison, but the looks on the brunettes' faces and her nearly dislocated shoulder made that impossible. Alison asked brightly as she folded herself into the group, "Why are you hogging Emily?"

The brunette had only a few seconds to glance at Alison's attire. She noticed the colors red and black before Alison peeked over her shoulder to figure out who was tugging her backwards. Emily could almost hear the woman's heart drop as blood rushed from her face as she choked, "Cece?"

Cece's left hand traveled up Emily's right bicep as she turned toward the other blonde, "Alison. I'm so sorry. I didn't know you would be here." Cece's voice trembled with every word and Emily tugged her closer to her right side as she said, "We're leaving. C'mon, Em."

"You brought her here?" Alison asked Emily weakly. Based on the look in Alison's eyes, Emily had done something unforgivable. Her blue eyes begged the brunette for a simple denial—to insist the situation wasn't as it seemed.

"Ali," Spencer spoke up, "She didn't know. Neither of them knew."

The stunned blonde's eyes traveled down Emily's right arm to Cece's hand and further down to their intertwined fingers. "Did you bring her as your date?" Alison accused harshly.

"I am so lost," Emily replied exasperatedly.

She wanted to shout how ridiculous this whole situation was, but Cece leaned up and whispered into her ear, "Please. I'll explain when we leave, which is right now."

It was Aria who finally grabbed Emily by the shoulders and steered her toward the exit. "Please take her and leave. She'll explain."

"Wait!" Alison rushed past Aria and snagged Emily by her left arm, "You're leaving with _her_?"

Emily was so puzzled by Alison's three consecutive rhetorical questions that words couldn't leave her moving mouth. It was obvious that Alison was hurt, betrayed even, but no one would tell her why. Was she supposed to stay with Alison and abandon Cece? She glanced over at her date and determined it was out of the question to just throw her outside to speak with Alison. When Emily's thoughts were denied a voice, Alison released her and Emily quickly led Cece out of the restaurant.

"What the hell was that?"

Cece jerked away from the brunette and paced, "I should be freakin' pissed at you, but you didn't know."

"Know what?" Emily tossed her hands in the air, "I've had all the cryptic shit I can take."

"She's my ex. We broke up a few months before you and I met."

Emily tucked her arms across her chest in disbelief, "Okay. We all have exes, but most of us don't flip our shit in public places. I just walked out of a scene from a fucking soap opera. All we needed were long dramatic pauses for commercial breaks."

"It didn't end well. At all. I just up and left. I assume she was devastated."

"Ya think?" Emily mocked. "Wait," the brunette continued in astonishment, "You left _her_?" She gestured to the restaurant. "Have you seen her? Who breaks up with someone like that?"

"Because she was… is an alcoholic," Cece admitted painfully. She was rubbing her chest with her right hand and hugging herself with her left. "She was always drinking and then she lied about it and didn't care. She didn't want help and I couldn't take it anymore. So I left."

Reeling with disgust, the brunette spat, "You just abandoned her? Because we alcoholics do _so_ well with abandonment."

"Save the passive aggressive bullshit, Emily," Cece ordered propping her hands on her hips. "You know better than anyone that alcoholics can be toxic. She was hurting herself and when she let me help her, she was just fucking lying to me. It hurt, Emily," she insisted, "but I couldn't stay with someone like that."

As Cece explained her reasons for leaving Alison, something in Emily's head finally clicked. She was surprised she hadn't figured it out until now. "That explains a lot about 'us' or the lack thereof."

"What do you mean? There's been an 'us' more times than I can count."

"Yeah for maybe two weeks and then _poof_. You were gone. Then you'd randomly show up again. I've always been up and down with the drinking since we've known each other."

Reluctantly, Cece nodded, "Yeah, you're right." Emily could see the guilt in her eyes, "I couldn't watch it happen with you too."

"Oh dear god!" Emily smacked both sides of her face with her hands, "You dated Alison and I've slept with you." The horror of the realization caked her tongue with a repugnant slime.

"That's been established," the blonde nodded at the obvious. "Wait. Please don't tell me you've had sex with her. That would be too gross especially considering what happened with us a few hours—"

"No!" the brunette blurted defensively waving her hands from side to side. "She's engaged to the guy who used to be one of my best friends!" That fact hadn't stopped her from thinking about it. A lot.

"Oh boy," the blonde sighed.

"This is so not how I expected tonight to go." Although Emily had prepared for some initial awkwardness, she looked forward to seeing Alison and giving her a hard time for making her waste her money on something she'd probably set on fire later. With Cece there to distract her, Emily would feel less like a third wheel with Alison and Duncan.

"No," Cece walked over and slid a hand down one of Emily's dress straps on Emily's chest. "And it's not going to end how we wanted it to either. Can you take me home and _not_ stay? I can't after—"

"No worries," Emily smiled. "This weird drama has ruined my appetite, even for you."

Before the blonde could plant a teasing kiss on Emily's lips, Spencer called out, "Emily!"

The brunette had two coats draped over one arm. As she handed them to their owners, Emily assured, "Spencer, hey. Don't worry. I'm taking Cece home. We're both really sorry. I can come back and—"

"No. You shouldn't come back."

"Uh. Why?" Emily was beyond irritated by the intense seriousness of the situation. They were adults, not high schoolers. "This cause is really important to me."

"And Ali is important to me," Spencer retorted. She softened her tone and continued, "She's really fragile right now even if she won't admit it."

Emily shook her head and tapped her right flattened hand into her left palm, "Cece won't be here. It's just me. What the hell is the problem?"

Surprised by Emily's ignorance, Spencer pulled her a few steps away from Cece and explained, "Stop and think for a minute. You and Alison have an… undefinable relationship. She just saw you with her ex clawing at your arm. Cece broke her heart even if she had a good reason. And now you just…"

Although she understood, Emily didn't like the answer so she replied, "Whatever. I'll just go home." The last thing she wanted Spencer to do was go and report how pathetically sorry she was. She and Alison needed to sort this thing out, not Alison prematurely reacting to Spencer's version of the conversation. She figured Spencer would be more likely to pass along nothing rather than relay Emily's flippant response.

"Spencer," Cece approached the two with a folded check in her hand, "Can you take this as a donation please? Just don't let Alison rip it up."

"Sure. And thank you for understanding."

"Of course, Spence," the blonde smiled, "I didn't stop caring."

"Take this too," Emily whipped a check of her own out of her clutch. "Bid on something Alison would like or just make an anonymous donation."

Before Emily folded the paper in half, Spencer's eyes swelled at the sight of the amount, "I'm pretty sure you have at least one too many zeros on this check."

"Nope," Emily waved off the idea, "I'm finally putting a hunk of metal that was collecting dust to good use."

"Okay then," Spencer grasped the two checks firmly between her fingers. "She'd thank you if she could."

"Yeah. Well. I'll see you on Thursday, right? We're having lunch?"

"Yeah," the other brunette replied brightly. She turned, but then doubled back and requested, "Oh and Emily. Talk to Alison sooner rather than later. She's not a child holding a grudge. She's just shocked and upset—the whole trigger thing."

"Will she be okay?" Emily's voice raised in concern. She hadn't even considered tonight's events affecting Alison to the point of drinking.

"Umm. There's a lot going on with her, but she's been sober for a year and a half so she's strong. We'll watch out for her."

"Good," she replied with relief. "I'll talk with her soon. Oh and don't lose that," she pointed to the paper in Spencer's hands.

"Oh, I won't. Don't worry."

When Spencer retreated into the restaurant, Emily and Cece walked to the brunette's car and headed to Cece's apartment. As she drove, Emily buzzed her lips and whined, "This night blows."

"How adult of you to say," Cece laughed.

Emily couldn't decide if she was annoyed with or concerned about Alison. She wasn't really accustomed to worrying about anyone but herself. On a daily basis, she fought the urge to rush into a liquor store and piss the rest of the day away. Now, her thoughts drifted from her own reprieve to Alison's temptation to indulge in her own drink of choice.

Brushing aside her anxiety, she complained, "I got all dressed up just to be booted out. That hasn't happened in…" She set herself up for the fall. She was usually more careful.

"A year? Right?"

"A couple months," Emily reluctantly admitted.

"Emily…"

"Don't. I'm fine." She detested the sound of pity.

"Does Hanna know?"

"She always knows. Who do you think picks me up on the side of the road?" She pictured herself lounging on a dirty curb with her heels kicked to the side and her bare feet bouncing off the pavement to the rhythm of some song she hummed to herself. A bouncer always checked on her every five minutes and she always replied, "My friend is fucking coming. Chill out."

Cece threaded her fingers through those on Emily's right hand and said, "I hope that never happens again, but if it does and Hanna doesn't pick up, call me. I'm serious."

"It won't happen again." Emily's words had long since lost their meaning. Her resolve to stay sober waned far too often. She didn't know how people could just stop. It seemed impossible.

"You're strong, Em. We may just fool around, but I care about you. I really do."

"I know," Emily squeezed the woman's hand. "But all these gushy feelings are freaking me out. We don't do this kind of stuff."

"Em, c'mon. We do sometimes. We probably know more about each other than we should."

Emily smirked, "I guess sex makes us vulnerable. _But_, we're usually naked the whole time."

The brunette pulled up to the curb outside Cece's building and the blonde replied, "You're right." She nipped at Emily's ear before sliding out of the car, "We're mostly just inappropriate with each other."

"Go away, tease," Emily smirked.

"Call me sometime," Cece ordered rather than requested.

"Most definitely." After she enjoyed the view of Cece ascending the few steps to her apartment, Emily took out her phone to see a missed call and voicemail from Duncan. "I hope he's going to explain himself. Jerk not showing up," she mumbled to herself. She lifted the phone to her ear and listened. Her jaw slackened and she nearly dropped the phone. First, a wave of shock swept over her, then happiness foamed on the sands of her mind. Just like the waters on a shoreline, the swell of joy fled from the shore and its remnants were dried up by harsh rays of sadness. Somehow, the rock of realization floated briefly until it suddenly plunged beneath the surface and shattered her fragile reality. Her eyelids forgot to wet her eyes and the muscles in her throat forgot to swallow. Long after the voice on the phone stopped, the phone remained glued to her ear. When her body resumed its involuntary functions, she tapped her phone screen a few times and waited for an answer.

"Well, hello my favorite person in the world aside from my boyfriend who is also my favorite person in the world."

"Hanna, is this real life?" Emily mumbled.

"Umm. Are you mocking that little kid in that video who was hopped up on laughing gas? Cuz that was freakin' hilarious." the blonde on the other end of the line chuckled as she quoted, "'Is this gonna be forever?'."

"I'm in a horribly scripted soap opera. First, Cece and Alison and now this damn voicemail. Where the hell are you?!" Emily ignored the reference to one of her favorite youtube videos, aside from those of ridiculously cute cats, and demanded.

"I'm at home. Calm down, crazy. So what happened with Cece and Alison?"

"Later," Emily definitely couldn't explain that now.

"Okay. The voicemail?"

"Funny fucking thing! Duncan was basically balling his eyes out telling me that Alison broke up with him."

"Whoa, dude. Maybe you are in a soap opera."

"Yeah," Emily huffed, "And I can't call him because he said he's gone into the woods to 'think'. Of course, he didn't say what 'woods' or what the hell 'think' means."

"He's probably getting wasted."

"No shit," Emily replied. She really wished she was with him. Drinking with him in her college days always resulted in long talks about nothing or nights she wished she could remember.

"'Why is this happening to me?'" Hanna asked humorously.

"Stop quoting the damn video!"

"Breathe. Now you're just feeding the drama."

"Urgh!" the brunette groaned in that weird tone that ended in a dog growl.

"Calm the fuck down and get your ass over here," Hanna ordered.

"Fine. Miss Bossy Pants."

"I'm hanging up."

"But Han—" the line went dead. Tossing the emotional rock off her shoulders and sprinting away from the cursed beach tainted with misery, she pulled into traffic and drove to Hanna's house without uttering a sound.

* * *

Alison barely noticed a thing as soon as Emily strolled out with Cece on her arm. She made introductions, thanked everyone for their support, sat through an auction and mingled solely to avoid being rude. The image of Cece latched onto Emily etched itself deeper and deeper into her consciousness each time it flashed into her mind with realistic detail. She abandoned a logical approach to processing the encounter almost immediately. The last few days had rubbed her raw and this night felt like sandpaper scraping against her skin.

She didn't care that Emily didn't know about Cece. She didn't care that Emily didn't know about Duncan. This hurt—it didn't sting or singe, it gouged out the tender blossom of hope that had taken root in her heart. The shovel didn't just take the flower, but the soil that desperately tried to feed the idea of a start with Emily. Only a shattered clay pot remained and her heart bled over the pieces wondering how it could be mended. These emotions completely eclipsed the existence of a tangible reconciliation with Emily. All she could do was feel, she had no strength to think.

When she finally reached her house, she stripped off her dress and flung her heels off against the wall in a hallway. The thud of the shoes on drywall didn't begin to satisfy her desire for audible crashes and slams to mirror the fury mixed with pain inside. She hastily pulled on sweat pants and a t-shirt and made a beeline for her freezer. If she couldn't have alcohol, she'd stuff her face with ice cream.

A knock on the door interrupted her plans. She crept silently to the front of her house. No one ever showed up at her door past midnight. Even louder pounds attacked her ears before she could reach the peep hole. She gasped. _Oh god not now._

"Alison!" Emily called out from the other side. "I know you're in there!" The blonde sank down to the floor in a crouching position. She needed to gorge herself on anger and agony before actually facing the source. She planted her backside firmly on the welcome mat.

"Look. I'm not leaving until you open the door!" Emily's voice still sounded demanding.

As Alison settled her right ear against the door while curling her knees up to her chest, the brunette ironically claimed in a softer voice, "I bet you're right next to the door."

The blonde clasped a hand over her mouth to silence the tornado of emotions begging to cry out. "Alison. Please. Don't be like this." A unfamiliar tone drifted through the door. The verbal request toyed with the idea of groveling. "I'm sorry." The blonde's finger doodled on the black paint of the door.

"Fine," Emily resigned and cleared her throat. "So I have this client tomorrow that drives me freakin' nuts. She chews gum, no, she smacks gum the whole session. I'm trying to rehabilitate her ankle so she can kick a ball around a field again and there's a cow chewing in my ear. It's disgusting."

Finally giving in, Alison hopped to her feet, swung open the door and demanded, "What do you want?" As she stared at the brunette's face, she remembered why she fought the urge to open the door. Her emotional resolve withered with each passing moment. Only her stubbornness propped up her defenses with a stick.

"To apologize and talk."

"Can it wait until tomorrow? Or did it just need to wait until after you were done with Cece?"

Instead of falling into Alison's trap, Emily nodded, "Yeah. It can wait."

"It can?" When the blonde tossed the unnecessary mention of Cece into Emily's face, she hadn't expected her to dodge.

Shrugging, Emily answered, "If you really want it to. Then sure it can." Her eyes darted upward as she recalled verbally, "I'm free-ish tomorrow other than the cow and I have lunch plans on Thursday, but other than that—"

"Then it can wait," Alison insisted. Her heart felt as though her stomach had it in a headlock. It couldn't breathe; she didn't feel right.

"Alright," Emily offered a small smile. "Sleep well." Without another word or protest, the brunette stalked away from the house.

Alison shut the door and once again slid down like jelly onto the floor. This was all too much and logic wasn't welcome. She'd slammed the door on its face a few hours ago. After feasting on chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream and old episodes of Modern Family, she tucked herself between her bedsheets and drifted off into a surprisingly peaceful sleep.

She arose early the next morning as she always did. On her way out the door, she shoved half of a bagel into her mouth and slid into her car. When she turned around in her seat to back out, she saw a familiar vehicle blocking her driveway. _Emily_.


	8. Chapter 8

**I know this took awhile, but good lord I had a hard time with it. I'm crossing my fingers that it turned out well.**

**Thanks so much for the encouragement. It definitely keeps me writing!**

**Enjoy!**

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With a blueberry bagel still between her teeth, Alison stomped to Emily's car. The harsh click clack of her heels against the pavement accentuated her frustration. This is not how she wanted to start her day. Despite her tranquil slumber, the effects of last night weighed on her like a bad hangover. Since she couldn't counteract the nagging pounding with alcohol, she just needed to avoid the sun's harsh rays. At this moment, Emily's presence was about as welcome as blinding light.

When Alison reached the car, she spied Emily through the driver's side window sprawled out in the back seat. With a pillow tucked under her head and a blanket draped across most of her body, the brunette was dead to the world. Alison noticed bare feet poking out from underneath the teal crocheted throw blanket. She had a Rosewood Sharks baseball cap shielding her face. Apparently, she'd given this sleeping in the car thing a lot of thought.

After realizing she was just staring at the woman she desperately needed to hate right now, Alison pounded on the back window. Emily immediately jerked upward upsetting the ball cap and sending the blanket slipping onto the floorboard. Momentarily confused, she glanced around with her eyes rejecting the daylight and her entire body refusing to accept her awakened state until she caught sight of a frowning Alison outside her car.

Shifting around, the brunette ungracefully unlocked the back door and stumbled outside. Donning a faint smile, tousled hair, baggy sweatpants and chipped white painted toenails, Emily greeted, "Good morning."

Determined not to let the adorable state of the woman detract from her frustration, the blonde barked after snatching the bagel out of her mouth, "What are you doing here?"

"Good morning to you too, Emily," the brunette mocked in a poorly imitated Alison voice.

"I have somewhere to be."

Doing her best to tame her brown hair, Emily agreed, "Yup. Right here with me."

Impatiently, Alison reminded, "You said last night that this could wait."

With a smirk, Emily nodded, "And it has waited… until right now. Huh," she sarcastically observed, "This driveway looks way different when you're arguing in the daytime."

"Just move your car so I can leave." Although she snapped at Emily, her teeth were nothing but harmless nubs.

"No. I'm not gonna let you keep being angry or hurt or whatever else when we can deal with this right now." Fully awake, the stubborn brunette propped herself against her car with crossed arms.

"You really want to do this now? Right here?" the blonde's eyes quickly darted to her right and left.

Indifferent to the public setting, the leaning woman shrugged, "Your driveway worked just fine the other night."

Puffing out her chest and diving right into the issue, Alison said, "I haven't seen Cece since she walked out on me two years ago." The blonde absently picked off pieces of the bagel and dropped them at her feet. "Of course I knew that I would see her again, but not last night and _not_ with you and _definitely_ not as your date!" She was nearly yelling by the time she reached the end of the sentence. The image of the two of them hanging all over one another set her teeth on edge while simultaneously churning her stomach.

"I'm really sorry about that," Emily nodded in acknowledgment of Alison's shock and discomfort with last night's encounter. She tried to explain without sounding dismissive, "I didn't know that she was anything to you."

"What is she to you?" Alison queried throwing a hand in Emily's direction. The bagel in her hand compromised her serious tone.

"Alison. Your breakfast is in my face," the brunette inched forward and pulled the bread from the woman's hand. "Hold please."

The blonde stared with a clenched jaw as Emily opened her driver door and started sifting through the glove box. "What the hell are you doing? I'm trying to talk to you!"

When Emily emerged, she held out the bagel, now neatly wrapped in a napkin. Without a word concerning the abrupt interruption, she set the bagel on the top of her car and answered, "Nothing. She's nothing to me." Still a bit miffed by Emily's random interlude, Alison only managed to raise an eyebrow as the other woman clarified, "I mean. We're not in a relationship and we never have been."

Although her body instinctively started to shift with uneasiness, Alison intentionally focused on maintaining her composure and asked, "But you two have… what? And for how long?"

With a sigh, the brunette deflected, "Can we table this or something?" Her refusal to look at Alison confirmed her complete disinterest in sharing details. "Like put a pin in this topic?"

"Excuse me?" the blonde scoffed. "This is the whole reason we're having this conversation."

Emily's eyes returned to Alison and she insisted with a chuckle, "No it's not and you know it." A pause afforded the blonde the opportunity to deny the claim, but she simply held the gaze of brown eyes as Emily continued, "Is this about Cece? Sure, part of it is, but the other part is the fact that I brought a date and you didn't want me to." The woman squinted her eyes and playfully flicked a accusatory finger Alison's way. "You'd have been pissed if I walked in with _anyone_ on my arm. And it's kinda cute and funny."

"Do I look amused to you?" Alison snipped with irritation etched into her features. The blonde's energy was split between constantly swatting away her body's reactions that would prove Emily's point and conjuring substantial reasons that Emily was wrong.

"No you don't," Emily shook her head as her humorous expression dissolved into a frown. "I'm here to make things better, not piss you off or hurt you or whatever else I've done to make you look at me like that."

"Like what?" Alison jerked.

Emily raised her arm, but dropped her hand and admitted, "Well. You stopped making the face, so I can't point at it anymore." The brunette fell silent waiting for the other woman to speak.

With the Cece topic officially postponed for another time, the blonde knew she held a vital piece of information related to this discussion, she sighed, "Look. I need to tell you something I was going to tell you last night."

"Me first."

"You've already talked," Alison stated unimpressed with Emily's newly resurfaced casual address. Although she hated to admit it, the brunette seemed to be mastering a method of keeping their arguments even keel rather than trekking around in the muck slinging mud at one another.

After pushing her lips together and shrugging, Emily replied, "Well, me again. Please?" The blonde rolled her eyes to keep from seeing the adorable look on the other woman's face before she revealed, "I know you broke up with Duncan."

The blonde twitched. "Who told you?"

"A weepy Duncan in a voicemail last night," Emily replied blandly. While Alison mourned the fact that she didn't tell Emily herself, the other woman powered forward with her theories, "So. When I heard that, I knew that there were two things going on last night. First, I brought your ex. Yikes."

"Yikes?" Alison bristled at the flippant word.

Holding up a hand for silence, Emily said, "I have the metaphorical talking stick." Submitting to the rules of the talking stick, Alison stewed silently in her irritation. "So. Cece was there. _Yikes_. Secondly, I brought a woman. I knew I recognized that look you gave me for a second last night. You were jealous." Although the blonde remained unmoved, Emily rambled with an inflated sense of confidence, "Hilariously, you felt justified in being jealous because you're newly single and you think that I'm hung up on you so how dare I show up with someone else and send mixed signals and ruin your plans to flirt with me and keep me to yourself." Emily paused. "That was a run-on sentence, but still valid."

Refusing to admit to anything, Alison queried, "Have you been out with anyone else since we met?"

"Yeah. I have. Jealous?" Emily took one step forward leaving only three between them.

"Does it matter?" The blonde's eyes stared straight down at the pavement wondering if Emily's feet might come into view.

"Alison. Really? You always have something to say."

"Not today," Alison's eyes floated upward at the oncoming woman now only two steps away.

"I don't believe you. I think you're scared." Although she maintained her distance, Emily searched the other woman's eyes for any indication of denial. When she found none, she offered with a smile, "I can either fix that or make it a whole lot worse."

"I just got out of a relationship, Emily." It was the blonde who took a step forward. She balled her fingers into a fist when she felt her hands begin to tremble.

"Good," the brunette replied happily. Alison was flabbergasted that this entire time, Emily only momentarily strayed from her somewhat inappropriate levity only to return again to her jovial attitude. "Now I can say the thing that I want to say that could totally blow up in my face."

"Get it over with then," Alison swallowed hard.

"I want to be with you," Emily breathed out. "Right now. I don't give a crap if you're supposed to wait an appropriate amount of time after getting out of a relationship. I don't want to ever again give you a reason to look at me the way you did last night. I slept in my car for you, Alison. You wanna know how many times I've done that to apologize to a girl? Zero. I've slept in it after getting wasted more times than I can count, but that's beside the point. The point is—"

"Emily," the blonde settled a hand on the brunette's right arm. She felt her shudder beneath her touch.

"Alison." the brunette kept her voice steady.

Her anger long since abandoned, Alison pressed forward with the hard truth, "There is too much to deal with right now. You know that."

Emily smirked and gently grabbed the hand on her arm. Cradling it in her palm near her chest and tracing the pale fingers with her thumb, she reminisced fondly, "It took me three meetings to talk myself into walking up to you. Three." She stared at the hand in hers.

"You know that," Alison repeated her previous statement with her eyes glued to their hands. As Emily softly squeezed her hand, the sensation shot dangerously sharp arrows and punctured her good sense.

The brunette continued, "That dress looked so good on you that night so I was like, 'Fuck it, I'm gonna talk to her'."

"Emily," the blonde retracted her hand, fighting off an urge that ordered her to fling caution into the winds of want and fall into Emily's embrace.

"And then you spilled your coffee and looked up at me so pissed off I thought you were going to rip my head off." Emily finally raised her head and offered Alison a look drenched in hope and anticipation. She hesitantly reached a hand out and tucked a stray lock of hair behind the woman's ear.

Doing her best not to turn her cheek into the welcoming palm, Alison asked, "Do you want me to make a list of all the complications?"

Taking a step back and gesturing to herself from head to toe with a chuckle, the brunette said, "I'm standing here with no shoes and bed hair because I pissed you off last night. That's literally a stone's throw away from you making me sleep on the couch because I did…" she snapped her fingers together in the air trying to think of something, but quickly gave up, "something that's 'banished to the couch' worthy."

"I was engaged just a few days ago," the blonde dragged a hand through her blonde hair raking her frustration into her scalp.

"I'm only gonna let you beat that horse until our third date, then we'll bury it. Really, really deep in the ground."

Shaking her head in complete confusion, Alison asked, "How can you possibly be okay with this?"

Setting her jaw and teetering on the line of solemn sincerity, Emily replied, "I've already made the biggest mistake of my life, so this can't be that bad of an idea." It wasn't particularly sweet, but Alison could no longer hold back a smile. She shoved aside every doubt and basked in the thought of actually being with this woman. Emily's eyes softened in blissful disbelief, "God, you're so beautiful when you smile. I'm going to melt into a puddle one day."

"You? Melt into a puddle?"

"I have soft spots. Somewhere."

"I'm sure you do," Alison agreed reaching for the woman's hand.

Once again enamored with the soft skin, Emily suggested playfully, "Now you have to tell me why you like me."

"Really?"

"We can go middle school style and I can give you a note that says 'Do you like me?' and you can check yes or no."

"You sold your car, didn't you?" Alison raised a finger to tip the other woman's head upward.

"What? What are you talking about?" the brunette feigned ignorance.

"I saw the check at the fundraiser."

"Oh. It wasn't a big deal," Emily answered clearly hoping her generosity had gone unnoticed.

Alison shook her head to negate the idea and instead admitted, "I like you because you sold your car. I like you because you pulled me into a pool. I like you because you know when to back down and when not to. I like you because—"

"Okay, okay. I get it," the brunette waved a hand near Alison's face, clearly uncomfortable with the compliments.

Catching the hand in the air and grasping tightly, the blonde added, "But. I'm absolutely terrified because you're hiding something behind all of that and I have no idea what it is."

Emily's jaw clenched and the beginning of tears pooled in her eyes. Alison nicked a pressure point that the brunette forgot existed. She could see Emily rolling her tongue between her teeth and biting down through her closed lips trying to fight off the whirlwind of emotions. With a voice full of fear, she finally said, "Please don't be afraid of me." After she spoke, she somehow sucked the salty tears forming in her eyes back up her tear ducts and flushed the discomfort from her features.

Grateful for a glimpse of Emily's fragility behind her meticulously constructed walls, Alison assured, "I'm not, but I think you're afraid of you."

"Be with me," Emily brushed off the observation and said, "I'll beg you if I have to."

"You'll beg me?"

"Mhmm," Emily lapsed back into her confident tone once again concealing all traces of sensitivity. "I'll even sleep in my car again, after I deal with that cow woman and her ankle today."

"Do you really want to deal everything?" Alison asked directly still holding Emily's hand.

"Yeah. I'm totally down with it."

"Did you just say 'down with it'?" the blonde cocked an eyebrow.

Continuing on the same ridiculous vein, the woman said with a smirk, "Gurl, I'm so down wit dis sh—"

Alison's muffled the last word, "Stop talking." She could feel Emily smiling against her hand. "Give me your phone."

Emily asked when the blonde's hand dropped from her face, "Why?" She swung open her back door and strained for the phone on the floorboard.

When Emily plopped the device in her hand with the screen already unlocked, Alison replied sweetly, "You're gonna need my number from now on."

"Am I?" the brunette smiled. As Alison focused on the screen, Emily tapped a finger on Alison's chin and said, "Seriously. How am I going to deal with the cuteness of this chin all the time?"

Swatting the hand away, the blonde replied with a tiny giggle, "Stop. I'm trying to type."

"C'mon, Ali. Have you seen your chin?" Alison's eyes darted to Emily's at the sound of her shortened name. She'd never heard it come out of Emily's mouth. Apparently, her face reflected her inner squeals. Emily said, "Yes. That's the first time I've said it. Get that goofy grin off your face."

"Are you sure about this?" Alison felt compelled to ask one final time as she handed the phone back to its owner.

"Ask me that when I really am sleeping on the couch because I pissed you off." Emily leaned backward against her car and pulled Alison close as she asked, "Are _you _sure?"

Settling her hands on Emily's hips, the woman admitted, "It could be difficult for awhile."

"I can do difficult," Emily assured. Sensing the lingering hesitance, she added, "Look. Just say this is what you want and we'll make it work."

"I do, but there's—"

"If we wait until things are all neat, organized and wrapped up with a big ass bow, we'll be shuffling around with walkers in a nursing home. And I'm not sure if I'll be interested in you at that point. Oww!" Emily exclaimed when Ali jabbed a finger into her side playfully. "I bruise easily!"

Alison merely smiled into Emily's beautiful chocolate brown eyes that seemed to swallow her whole. They drew her into a fantasy world that couldn't possibly exist—one without Duncan or Cece or their mutual struggle with addiction. She stood on a cliff. Although she couldn't see the ground below, it smelled like a field of flowers after a rain. A haze floated twenty feet below, ebbing like the Northern Lights. There were huge boxes chained to her ankles. If she jumped, she'd be plunging to the unknown with pounds of baggage that could eventually drown her and maybe drag Emily into the depths with her. She glanced behind her at the soggy terrain wet with tears and regrets with only small patches of vegetation of her small happinesses. She looked down once more into the abyss; she stared for one more second into Emily's eyes. She threw herself off the edge. Eagerly, she said, "I do want this."

"I knew it!" Emily smashed her lips onto the blonde's right cheek as if claiming her prize.

"What have I gotten myself into?"

The brunette rested her forehead against Alison's and whispered, "Thank you."

"For letting you win?" the blonde teased.

Alison could hear Emily's mouth stretch into a smile, "Yeah."

"When will I see you next?" Ali asked quietly.

Pulling back, Emily suggested, "Come to lunch tomorrow."

"Your lunch with Spencer?"

"Yeah, I'll invite Hanna and Aria too. It'll be a fivesome," she grabbed both of the blonde's hands and swung them side to side between them playfully.

"That sounds like an accident waiting to happen," Alison laughed at the large semi circles Emily created with their hands.

"C'mon. Hanna told me you two had a civil conversation last week. If the five of us can't stand each other long enough to eat a meal, we've got a serious problem," Emily stilled their hands and dropped them between them.

"I agree with that."

Emily commented randomly, "You look really pretty today."

"I wish I could say the same to you," Alison smirked eyeing the woman's attire and general dishevelment.

"Watch it," Emily warned.

"You like it," Ali pressed her lips to Emily's cheek and lingered long enough for the kiss to be more than a casual sign of affection. "I really do have to go and you should probably shower because you might smell a bit."

Raising two fingers, Emily noted, "That's two insults in less than a minute. Maybe you are still a little mean." She nudged the blonde away with two hands planted on her hips and joked, "Go away. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Yeah. You will," Alison backed up keeping her eyes on the beautiful brunette before turning and strutting to her car parked in the garage. Only minutes ago, she jumped out of her car and stormed toward the brunette filled with rage and a goal of sending Emily packing. Now, her heart felt light in her chest and her mind was filled only with thoughts of hope.

A loud rap on her window elicited a curse. She glared at the grinning brunette waving her forgotten bagel.

Alison rolled down the window and Emily said, "I forgot to say goodbye." Without warning she maneuvered her head and right hand through the window. As the blonde's heart banged against her rib cage and her mouth went dry, the brunette stared at her lips as her hand settled gently against her cheek.

"I promise you we'll deal with everything," Emily whispered. "I'm not an idiot, but I can't walk away from you not having you." Alison unconsciously licked her lips with her eyes locked on Emily's entrancing moving mouth. "Look at me," the woman urged. When blue eyes melded with brown, she said, "I know I don't always seem to take things seriously, but I'm not kidding about this. I'm not going to mess around with you. I'm going to make you happy."

"Confident are we?" Alison replied faintly. Emily's words floated through her ears and soaked her heart with reassurance.

"Alison DiLaurentis," Emily shook her head at the joke and said, "You're going to love me one day."

Not a second passed before the blonde dove forward and pressed her quivering lips to Emily's. She couldn't bare to not kiss this woman for a single moment more. Emily's beautiful words echoed as the brunette parted her lips to snag Alison's rosy bottom lip before she released it and suckled on the other soft warm lip. Although complete strangers, their mouths moved in tandem as if they knew one another intimately. They both basked in the small sounds of each kiss and eagerly chased after the next sensation, the next feeling, the next desire. They were completely wrapped up in one another although connected only by their lips.

"Dear god, Em," Alison breathed quietly. "What have you done to me?"

Emily leaned back with her eyes still closed. Alison smiled as the woman's eyes fluttered open and Emily whispered, "Yeah. I'm going to melt into a puddle eventually." She ducked out of the car window and offered the bagel with a small smile. "Oh and here's this."

Taking the offered bagel, Alison replied sweetly, "Bye, Em."

"Bye, Ali."

Alison's eyes stared into her rearview mirror as she steadied her breathing and watched Emily meander to her car. That barefooted, stubborn, breathtaking woman had completely ruined her for anyone else with a few sensual moments. Emily was right. She was definitely going to love her one day.

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**Don't be too disappointed, but you're probably not going to see an update for a week or so. I'll be out of town with not very much time to write. At least I didn't leave you guys with a cliffhanger :)**


	9. Chapter 9

**Thank you guys for waiting so patiently! As always, I'm glad to see reviews and follows. I aim to entertain!**

**This chapter kind of got away from me so if it turns to rambling, my bad. I think it's kinda cute. I guess I dabbled in being what MysticalGoddessOfWords calls "longwinded". :)**

**I apologize in advance for any mistakes. I know you guys wanted to read this so I only read it twice instead of three times, ha. I'll be sure to fix everything tomorrow.**

**Enjoy!**

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"Do you have a special friend?"

Emily lifted one hand from the steering wheel and adjusted the rearview mirror in her car. When a small brunette sitting in the backseat came into view, she replied with a chuckle, "Where did that come from, Auri? We were just talking about how you can't tell your mom that I let you have ice cream this morning."

Sinking back into the seat, the small girl sighed while bouncing both palms on the seat beside her thighs, "My brain got bored."

"Are you calling me boring?" the brunette asked in a playfully hurt voice. When she was with children, her high school mannerisms and tone woke from their slumber. She spoke quieter, lower and sweeter, but there was no getting rid of her sarcasm.

"No, Emmy," the passenger waved her head back and forth at the face in the mirror, "Just your words."

"I'll pretend that's not the same thing."

"Mommy has a special friend," the three year old craned her neck upward and to the side to peek out of the back window.

"Oh does she? How do you know?"

"She told me. She said I might meet him soon."

Emily was a bit surprised that her friend had mentioned the guy she was dating to Auri. She was fiercely protective of her daughter and didn't prance men around in her house. "Well, he must be really special if he gets to meet you."

"Why?" Emily could feel two inquisitive brown eyes locked onto the back of her head.

She glanced around at the deserted four way intersection. _God, this town is small._ She brought the car to a stop at the stop sign and turned around with a smile, "She loves you more than anyone in the whole wide world. So if—"

"The whole world?!" small eyes swelled with astonishment.

"The whole _wide_ world," the brunette added with a cheerful sparkle in her eye, "Maybe the whole universe."

"Universe?" the child queried.

Emily loved the intense look in children's eyes when they heard a word they truly wanted to understand. There was a laundry list of things that Emily adored about children, with innocence near the top, but unadulterated curiosity ranked the highest. "Bigger than the world," she clarified.

"Whoa!" the girl plopped her head back into the leather seat to process the existence of anything bigger than the world. "That's really big."

Catching sight of a car pulling up behind them, Emily's eyes returned to the road as she drove through the clear intersection and agreed, "Mhmm. So if she wants you to meet this guy, he's gotta be really important."

"Cuz I'm Mommy's princess!" the claim rang out in a singsongy voice.

"Eww. No," the brunette shook her head violently.

"Princesses aren't eww!" the smaller brunette insisted defensively with arms crossed tightly over her chest. She was boring a hole into the rearview mirror hoping Emily's face might appear.

"They are if you survived the clown/princess incident of 2002."

"Clowns are fun!" Auri's eyes locked onto the woman in the mirror and she thrust her head downward once in a fierce nod.

With an eyebrow raised and eyes darting between the road and the girl, Emily assured, "Just wait, they won't be fun for long. Life will ruin clowns for you."

"But they smile," the arms unlocked and two hands lifted with palms up with a shrug.

"Ch'yeah. The smile of 'I'm going to eat your face off'," she outwardly shuddered at a brief flash of her terrible experience. She'd never be able to look at princesses or clowns the same way again.

"Clowns don't eat faces, Emmy."

"We'll have this conversation again in ten years when you're also freaked out by clowns."

"You'll be old," Auri offered offhandedly with her gaze drifting once again out the window.

"I won't be old!"

"Emmy!" the girl's hands slapped down on her thighs signaling an abrupt shift in conversation.

"What?"

"Do you have a special friend?"

"Great. We're back to this," Emily puffed out a stream of air to blow away a stray lock of hair. She knew exactly how this was going to end.

"Do you have one?"

"Maybe," the brunette woman stammered, "I think. I guess." She didn't know what she and Alison were. It seemed way too scary and nearly impossible to slap a label on their relationship. It was way too soon. She hadn't lied when she told Alison she wanted it to work, but the variable wasn't _if_ it would work but _how long_ it would work.

"How can it be maybe?" Emily perceived the truly confused look in the backseat with a finger tapping on a small chin.

"Because it is."

"It can't be."

"Yes, it can."

"No, it _can't_."

"Yeah, it _can_!"

"No, Emmy! It can't!"

"Yeah, Auri! It—god. I can't believe I fell for that."

Cleverly, the satisfied girl noted, "You either have a special friend that's all yours or you don't."

That's how Emily predicted it would end. It always did. "Don't be so insightful."

"In-sy-ful?"

"In-sight-ful," the woman enunciated and defined simply, "Super smart. Way too smart for your age."

"Oh," Auri nodded in understanding and shrugged, "Mommy says I was born that way."

"Nah," Emily joked, "It comes from being around me so much.

"Hehe," the girl snickered, "You're silly, Emmy."

"_You're_ silly. And we're here," she declared as they pulled up outside the restaurant where four women sat at a table outside waiting for her. Her friend's last minute request to babysit Auri this morning threw her a little bit behind schedule. She didn't care. She adored the tiny three year old sitting in the back seat fiddling with her belt buckle.

"I get to meet your friends?" Auri asked with her tongue tucked in the corner of her mouth as she strained to mash the button to free herself from the belt suddenly straggling her. When the clasp finally clicked, the girl asked the woman in the front seat, "Is one of them your _maybe_ special friend?"

Emily's face froze and she quickly hopped out of the car and swung open the back door to retrieve the nosy girl and a bag laying in the floorboard. "I'm not going to answer that."

A huge grin stretched across Auri's face as she crawled across the seat toward Emily, "Mommy says being quiet to a question means 'yes'."

As she slid the bag handle onto her arm and scooped the girl into her arms, the woman said, "Don't listen to her."

"Mommy is always right," the girl insisted.

"Pffft," Emily chucked, "Oh, Auri. Let's also have _this_ conversation in ten years."

Auri situated herself in the tall brunette's arms so she could peer at the four women across the street. "Are you friends nice?" she queried somewhat hesitantly.

Pecking the girl on the forehead, Emily assured, "Of course they are, sweetheart. Are you nervous?"

"They're so pretty," Auri noted quietly before she bounced in Emily's arms and flinging out a finger to point, "Oh! There's Hanna!"

Struggling to hold onto the wiggling girl, Emily said, "Please don't tell me you already get intimidated by other girls."

"In-tim-a-what?"

"Something you shouldn't be at your age." As she stepped onto the sidewalk, the woman allowed her attention to shift from her tiny charge to the women at the table, or rather, a specific woman at the table. Alison's eyes were darting back and forth between her and the beautiful girl in her arms. Although clearly confused, the blonde's features softened into a warm inaudible greeting. "Look, they're all smiling at you."

"I wanna see Hanna, please." Emily bent down and released the girl from her grasp. As soon as she was free, Auri sprinted, well more like hobbled, over to the blonde with open arms.

"Who is this?" Aria asked as Emily pulled out a chair beside Alison.

"Hanna!" the little girl yelped as she threw herself into the woman's arms.

"The only little person I like!" Hanna greeted. Although not particularly fond of children, even Hanna couldn't resist Auri's charms.

After sitting down in the chair, Emily turned to Alison and said sweetly, "Hey, you."

With a small smile, the blonde returned, "Hi."

Pushing out of Hanna's arms, the three year old insisted, "I wanna go back to Emmy."

"Well, that's rude," the blonde muttered as the girl trotted away toward her friend.

Emily hoisted the eager girl up into her lap and wrapped her arms protectively around her waist.

Alison asked, "So who is this beautiful girl?"

Casually, Emily replied, "Oh, this is my daughter."

"Excuse me?" Spencer's mouth dropped open.

"I am not, silly!" the toddler corrected. "She's my friend."

As Spencer, Aria and Alison breathed a sigh of relief, Emily added, "And you're one of my favorite people."

Patting the backs of Emily's hands settled on her stomach, Auri replied happily, "Love you, Em."

Spencer noted with surprise, "This is adorable and unexpected." It was fair to say that none of the three women expected Emily to have the temperament to enjoy the company of children.

"Mostly adorable," Aria said with a smile.

Emily squeezed the girl in her arms, "Love you too." Addressing the entire table, the brunette said, "This is Auri. Auri, this is Alison, Aria and Spencer." Each woman nodded as their name was called.

Unwilling to stray from their conversation in the car, the three year old asked, "Who is Emmy's maybe special friend?"

"Her what?" Hanna queried with a piqued interest.

"Do you want something to eat?" Emily asked hoping to distract the little girl.

"I already had ice cream," Auri recalled.

Alison commented, "You gave her ice cream before noon?"

"You can't tell Mama," the small brunette instructed.

"Don't worry," the blonde assured, "We're all good at keeping secrets."

With wide eyes, Auri made an ironically educated guess, "Are you her maybe special friend?"

While Emily frantically tried to concoct a subject that might interest the girl, Hanna asked, "Why don't you tell everyone your full name? Have you learned to say your last name yet?"

"Thanks, Han," the blonde's friend groaned. She might prefer the special friend topic to this.

Clearing her throat, Auri said, "It's Colbie Aurelia Vanderwaal."

"Vanderwaal?" Spencer choked.

"That's a mouthful for such a little girl," Aria replied hastily as Alison and Spencer recovered. Tension hovered above their heads as it threatened to descend and disrupt the previously jolly tone of conversation.

Because she never could let anything go, Hanna prompted just to clarify, "And your mom's name is…"

"Mommy's name is Mona. It's a pretty name."

"Oh, dear god," Alison's forehead dropped into her open hand.

Emily's feelings ranged from discomfort to amusement. Three women who directly and indirectly tortured Mona in high school now sat less than two feet away from her daughter. She mashed her lips together to swallow a laugh.

"Don't worry, Alison." Hanna mocked, "She hasn't been trained to attack."

Oblivious to Hanna's goading, Auri asked, "Can I eat something? I'm actually hungry."

Grateful for the interruption, Emily replied, "Sure, let's get you something." She glanced at Alison to her right and assured playfully, "I swear she's not going to bite."

"You do know the history here, right?" Alison asked quietly not wanting to draw Auri's attention.

Emily situated a menu in Auri's hands and said, "Yeah. I also know that Mona is raising an amazing girl. She stopped holding grudges the minute she saw her daughter's face."

"I can't read this, Emmy," the toddler reminded her friend.

Chuckling, Emily teased, "I forgot. You're usually so smart." She listed a few of the choices and asked the little girl to choose. As Auri tapped her mouth in thought, the woman asked Alison with a smile reserved only for her, "How are you?

The blonde's face lit up and she softly replied, "I'm good now."

"Pizza, Emmy. Pizza please," Auri decided. Slapping the menu down onto the table, she asked Alison once again, "Are you her maybe special friend?"

"What _is_ a maybe special friend?" Alison asked.

Noting the twinkle in Ali's eyes as she spoke to Auri, Emily couldn't help but reveal, "She's my special friend, Auri."

A faint groan drifted across the table from Hanna's direction as the toddler grinned and declared, "You're so pretty!" She poked at Emily's shoulder above her own and said, "Mommy told me you need a special friend because—"

"Pizza, right!" Hanna blurted. Emily mouthed a thank you. Despite her constant bickering with the blonde, they were fiercely protective of one another when it came to sensitive topics. "You need some pizza." A waitress happened to wander over at that moment and Hanna asked, "Can you get this girl some pizza? Or anything to stick in her mouth?"

"Let's just stick with pizza," Emily clarified.

After everyone rattled off their individual orders and the waitress strolled inside the restaurant, Spencer said to Emily, "I guess I'll forgive you for being late and inviting three, well four, other people to our lunch."

"It's because of my awesome friend, isn't it?" the other woman queried.

"Pretty much," Spencer admitted with an adoring look at the girl in Emily's lap. Auri had successfully captured the heart of all the women at the table in less than ten minutes.

"Can I color?" Auri asked as she strained to reach the bag sitting on the ground.

"Oh yeah," the brunette lifted the bag, pulled out a notebook and crayons and said, "I forgot I brought that. You can't take this girl anywhere without paper and crayons."

"And never forget the paper or she'll start drawing on pretty much anything," Hanna added.

"I like to make things pretty," Auri explained innocently as she pressed a red crayon to the paper.

"And you always do," Emily answered with a light kiss on the top of her head.

For the next twenty minutes, Emily managed to keep Auri occupied with drawings of dogs, cats and a plethora of stick figures. Auri jokingly sketched a rough image of a clown just to laugh at Emily's small shudder. Somewhere during that time, Alison pulled one of Emily's hands into her lap and gently traced lines up and down her fingers. Since the three year old refused to share her blue, red and green crayons, she didn't notice the absence of Emily's right hand.

When a warm pizza arrived along with the other food the women ordered, Auri's green crayon slipped from her fingers as she squealed with excitement. Entertained by the clapping and wagging tongue, Emily observed loud enough to be heard from across the table, "You remind me of a little Hanna."

Spencer and Aria couldn't suppress a snort, but Alison bit her tongue and simply cleared her throat. She and Hanna still had a precarious relationship, so she opted not to join in on any kind of humor at the other woman's expense.

With a quick glare at the very aware three year old, Hanna responded carefully, "Em, you are a b-i-t-c-h."

"Hanna," Emily scolded softly.

"What's that spell?" the small brunette asked no one in particular.

"It spells 'Emily'," Hanna blurted before anyone could steer the conversation down a less confrontational avenue.

Glaring at her blonde friend across the table, Emily clarified, "That's not how you spell my name, Auri. That's just Hanna being silly."

Auri cupped her hand around the outside of her mouth and whispered up into Emily's ear, "Did she say a bad word?" When the woman nodded, the girl noted, "She says a lot of bad words."

"She does have a potty mouth," Emily agreed.

"A potty mouth?"

"Hey," Alison interrupted. "Aren't you hungry? I'm sure that ice cream didn't fill you up."

As Auri's pointer finger leapfrogged across several pepperonis, Emily said, "You mean the ice cream I shouldn't have given her?"

"Not before lunch," Alison concluded with a smirk as the brunette carefully dragged a knife along the not completely cut lines across the pizza.

Auri rubbed her palms together in anticipation until Emily set down the knife and asked, "So how big of a mess do you plan on making?" She poked the girl in the sides.

As Auri started yanking one piece of cheesy goodness off the pan, Alison suggested, "Cutting it up might make it easier."

"Nah. That's for babies. She can handle this like a pro," Emily claimed as the toddler hovered a drooping slice of pizza to her wide open mouth.

A tiny glob of sauce trickled down a finger. Eyebrow raised, Ali reemphasized as she wiped the sauce off, "It might be cleaner."

"Kids are messy," Emily replied. "Sauce, ketchup, mud, paint—all fair game in the ruining of carpet, clothes and pretty much anything that can be stained." Alison stared at her with a skeptical yet amused look. "Isn't that right, Auri?"

The girl glanced upward with sauce caked on the corners of her mouth and a long string of cheese stretching from her teeth to the slice of pizza. "Uh huh. That's right," she muttered through the food.

"You're got something on your face," Emily smiled down at the girl with mozzarella dangling from her chin.

"You won't be so smiley when she ruins your shirt," Alison joked.

"You guys wanna stop playing 'house' over there?" Hanna suggested as she shoveled lettuce into her mouth.

"You wanna stop chomping lettuce like a baby koala?" Emily retorted.

Setting down her fork, the blonde shrugged, "Just go make a baby if you want one so ba—" A fry bouncing off her forehead truncated the sentence. Egged on by a snickering Emily, Hanna snatched up a cherry tomato drenched in ranch dressing from her plate.

"No way!" Spencer snagged Hanna's wrist and cajoled, "I don't think we need any more children at this table."

Reluctantly, the irritated and subdued blonde dropped the tomato into a bed of green leaves. She picked up her fork and pointed at Emily ominously, "You'll pay for that later."

"How are you two friends exactly?" Spencer asked.

As Emily assisted the girl in her lap, catching the pizza before it could land on her shirt, she replied, "We both have really strong opinions about pretty much everything."

"And we throw them in each other's face with so much love," Hanna nodded with a smirk.

"It's a mutual understanding."

Waving her fork loaded with lettuce in the air absentmindedly, the blonde added, "We're occasionally nice to each other."

"That doesn't sound functional," Aria noted.

"Like your friendship with _that_ one is?" Hanna nodded toward Alison.

"Hey, Hanna," Emily spoke up as she clamped a hand on Alison's thigh hoping to avoid a argumentative response. "Let's model our good behaviors for this very impressionable little angel."

"Fine," the other woman conceded. "Let's talk about something boring and appropriate."

The five women launched into a censored but entertaining conversation covering topics from Aria's latest project to Spencer's party on Saturday. About half an hour went by before a car pulled up next to the curb several yards away from them. "Auri!" a voice called from the vehicle.

"Mommy!" the girl leapt from Emily's lap and onto the pavement.

"Whoa there," the brunette grabbed the girl's arm and carefully wiped off the girl's mouth and fingers. Auri waited patiently until the woman declared, "Alright. You're fit to be seen." She stood up and followed the skipping girl to the car. She greeted the driver through the rolled down passenger side window, "Hey, Mona. Did everything work out?"

"Yup. All's well," as Emily shuffled Auri into the backseat, the mother said, "Thank you so much for watching her. I hope it wasn't an issue."

"Not at all," the other woman shook her head as she buckled in the smiling toddler, "I haven't seen her in months. I needed some Auri time."

"And I needed Emmy time!"

The girl yanked her babysitter into a hug and strangled her to the best of her ability. Once free from Auri's loving clutches, Emily shut the door and leaned into the open front window. "Call me anytime. I missed her."

"Are you okay?" Mona asked. Although fully aware of Emily's struggles, the mother never questioned her friend's ability to take care of her child. While Emily often withdrew from the two person family of her own accord when she slipped, Hanna sometimes stepped in to act as a buffer when the brunette failed to recognize her impairment. Emily never gambled when it came to Auri. The girl was one of the only people she'd yet to fail.

"Yeah. I'm good."

"If you need anything on Saturday, call me Em," Mona instructed rather than requested.

A bit irritated by the reminder of the anniversary only two days away, Emily nodded and replied, "I will. Don't worry." She drummed on the edge of the door and said, "Well, take care. Let me know if you need me to take her off your hands."

"She looks forward to it," Mona smiled.

When Emily turned around to walk back to the table as Mona and Auri drove away, she nearly collided with Alison who stood directly behind her. "Come with me," the blonde demanded as she clenched her fingers around Emily's wrist.

"Umm okay. Where are we going?" Emily asked as Alison pulled her down the sidewalk.

The blonde's fingers tightened as she glanced back briefly to say, "This is the part of whatever _this_ is that we gross everyone out because we can't keep our hands off of each other."

When Alison turned a corner and whisked them down an alley, Emily snickered, "Whatever _this_ is?"

"Do you wanna talk about what _this_ is?" the blonde queried rhetorically. By her quick pace and ever tightening grip on the brunette's hand, she had no intention of talking.

As Alison tucked them behind a small dumpster and backed Emily into a wall, the tanned skinned woman observed, "Well unless those bags of trash count as 'everyone', I don't think we'll be grossing anyone out from back here."

"Well, I want you all to myself," Alison smirked.

"Why is that?" Emily teased. Although the answer was written all over Alison's face and seeping through the hand pressed against her stomach, the brunette did wonder why she'd been dragged off after packing Auri into a car.

"Oh, ya know," Alison said, "I just wanted to have a casual conversation in private. I could tell you about work." When the other woman's back hit the wall, she asked in a low, sultry voice, "Do you want me to talk about work?"

As Alison's right hand pinned her firmly against the jagged bricks, Emily's eyes roamed the face inches from her own. Well, they intended to roam, but were snagged by minute captivating features dotting the pale flesh canvas. In these moments, Emily completely understood the difference between looking and truly seeing. During their brief meetings over the past weeks, she'd visually raked the woman's face searching for signs of lust and attraction. No longer desperate to infer Alison's feelings from every look, the brunette noted seemingly mundane things.

Without layers of liquid foundation on Alison's face, she noticed the texture of her skin, which looked as soft as it felt. She saw the two crevices on the edges of her lips—those pink fleshy bundles of nerves decorated with a multitude of tiny vertical lines. Emily exhaled with pent up desire as Alison unconsciously tucked a sliver of her bottom lip between her teeth.

Although there was nothing spectacular about it, the brunette smiled as her eyes traveled up the vertical valley above Alison's upper lip and to the top of the bridge of her nose. She randomly marveled at the skill of artists who could accurately capture the essence of people and their faces with brushes, pencils and paint. She thought for sure that not even a master painter could do justice to every curve and color mingled together to recreate this astoundingly beautiful face.

As much as the blonde's lips, dimples and nose dumfounded her, the two pools streaked with want paralyzed her. The eyes weren't just blue. Hints of white and grey and shades of green swirled in the sea of blue around a wide black orb. Just when she thought the two round windows to Alison's every want and need might mesmerize her indefinitely, she felt a thumb swipe across her bottom lip and four fingers settle on her neck just below her jaw.

"Are you just going to stare at me?" Alison whispered with her warm breath tickling Emily's mouth.

Before Emily answered, a strange realization knocked on a hidden door in a locked away room in her brain. She thought the key had been lost, but the blonde's words yanked the door from its hinges, flushed away the cobwebs and flooded the room with light. She almost choked on the idea that she might be able to stare at this face for weeks, maybe months, maybe years to come. That wasn't normal. That wasn't expected. It was terrifying.

"Em," a finger tapped on her chin. "are you with me?"

"I think so."

Marveling at the return of the vulnerable tone Emily revealed in Auri's presence, Alison said, "How often does this happen?"

Still dazed by the slightly uncomfortable thought swimming in her brain, the other woman replied, "How often does what happen?"

"You're so quiet and sweet. With Auri you were just…"

Peeking out of her own muddled mind, Emily said, "Kids have that effect on me. They're my kryptonite. Wait," the brunette smirked at the woman pinning her to the wall, "Are you saying I'm not normally sweet?"

"In your own twisted way," the blonde's fingers on the hand not pressing on the brunette's stomach twiddled with a few locks of brown hair.

Reality swallowed her uncertainty and Emily replied, "So did you drag the quiet, sweet Emily back here?" Her wrists locked behind Alison's back, keeping her close. Having sufficiently explored the intricacies of the blonde's face, her eyes wandered to Alison's neck and right shoulder. While she could stare and wonder at the beautiful body in her arms, her mouth couldn't deny itself a taste.

As Emily's warm lips tingled against the skin on her shoulder, Ali replied, "I dragged _you_." A raw exhale shot from her mouth when a tongue rolled up her shoulder as the other woman trekked up her neck.

And so began the symphony of firsts. Although Emily's lips dominated most of Alison's semi-conscious thought, the rest of her body relished in the introduction of other glorious sensations. The skin on her spine shivered and Emily's fingertips trembled as the brunette traced the very first trail up the blonde's back. Soon, her fingers would know this body as well as she did her own, but in these moments, they wandered searching for spots that made Alison wince or shudder with pleasure. As Alison slid her hand through Emily's hair, her fingers rejoiced in the sensation of the hair ravishing them while the brunette's scalp savored the touch of the strange but welcome digits.

"Which Emily do you prefer?" the brunette asked as her lips pecked slowly toward Alison's mouth.

"Do I have to choose?" Alison murmured.

Thoughtfully, Emily replied, "One's a little less complicated and relatively undamaged."

Leaning into the brunette's ear, Alison whispered, "I told you yesterday—I'm not afraid of you."

No longer even slightly interested in speaking, Emily's right hand abandoned it's comfortable post on Alison's back and tangled in blonde hair as she maneuvered Alison's lips away from her ear. The blonde's hand dropped from the back of Emily's head as the brunette took one look into blue eyes before smashing their lips together. Although their lips met with haste, they didn't proceed in an animalistic passion.

Their noses happily adapted to the occasional nudge and the streams of air pelting their skin. Their lips didn't merely graze and tease, they gently tugged begging for more and parted fulfilling their needs. No movement resulted in a redundant feeling. Every time Alison's teeth barely scraped Emily's lower lip, a different sensation penetrated the pleasure center of her brain. If Emily stilled their kiss just to enjoy the feeling of Ali's lips on hers, different nerve endings on her lips tingled.

When the blonde's tongue drifted past Emily's lips, the brunette happily greeted it with her own. Their mouths widened as they became less interested in each other's lips and intrigued by the tips and tops of their tongues, the roofs of their mouths and the sides of their cheeks.

Although Emily's vocal cords rang with Alison's name, their melded mouths smothered the words into a moan. Her fingers clenched tightly into the blonde's scalp as the sound reverberated through her throat and into her mouth. In a matter of seconds, the brunette's brain was bombarded by a flurry of realizations. She wasn't used to foreplay; she didn't do foreplay. She could practically feel her pulse shooting heat between her thighs. She and Alison had been exploring one another's lips and mouths for several minutes. With any other woman, there would have been teeth clamped on nipples and fingers drenched with want and fulfillment as she pummeled into her partner. They could be naked or fully clothed. They might have kissed or they might have not. As the moan echoed in her mouth, she consciously decided that this had to be different. She hastily buried every lewd, impersonal thought beneath a sincere aim toward intimacy rather than temporary pleasure.

She couldn't stomach touching Alison with an impure intention. Although every sexual part of her body railed against her noble intentions, Emily unlocked their lips to proactively communicate, "Ali."

"Em," the blonde muttered straining forward to the brunette's lips.

"I want to do this right," she responded to every small peck placed by Alison as she desperately tried to collect her thoughts and form complete sentences.

"Trust me," Alison's tongue snacked across her bottom lip, "you're doing it right."

"I want to fuck you," the brunette stated bluntly. She felt the blonde's lips still. She probably should have chosen a different word. She leaned back and quickly locked eyes with wide blue ones. "But I'm not going to. That's what I always do."

Much to Emily's surprise, Alison immediately understood and replied with soft fingers trickling down her jaw, "Emily."

"This _has_ to be different," Emily began to tense with determination.

"Em," both of Alison's hands now cupped the face clinched with frustration. "This will be different for _both_ of us." Still somewhat on edge, the brunette merely nodded. Softly, Alison requested, "Now tell me that I'm beautiful and kiss me some more."

Just as Emily predicted, she melted at the sound of Alison's words and the reassurance of her touch. "You're beautiful," she murmured. Instead of dwelling in the fear snapping at her heels, she booted her insecurities aside and frantically searched for a sledgehammer. As Alison pressed her lips to hers, she snatched up the weapon and attacked a vulnerable spot in her walls of defense. As their tongues danced, she bashed at the bricks while her arms screamed in pain and the fear barked and bit at her legs. When their kisses slowed to soft lingerings, she threw down the nearly broken hammer in triumph. When Alison pulled back, smiled and blue eyes fused with hers, Emily basked in the sunlight streaming through the gaping hole in the wall. She hadn't seen this light in years and she couldn't think of a better reason to risk getting burned than the woman in front of her.

"Are you still here?" Alison asked placing one last kiss on the musing girl's nose.

Wrapping her arms tightly around the blonde's waist, Emily nodded and assured, "There's no getting rid of me now."

"Good," Ali didn't break eye contact and said, "Because I do want you to fuck me."

"Wow!" Emily snorted. "That went from sweet to crude really fast."

"Oh, I'm supposed to be the emotional sweet one?" Alison teased.

"Hell no, you just keep being you."

"Guys," Hanna's voice rang out from the other side of the dumpster. "Can you get your hands and mouths off of each other and actually talk to us?"

"We're just talking," Emily lied still staring at Alison.

"Oh, please. Emily Fields doesn't _talk_ behind dumpsters."

"Well go away so we can put our clothes back on," Emily replied.

"Okay. Gross. I'm going." Emily could practically see the rolling eyes and small gag. "Oh," the blonde added, "be sure your shirt is on right. I can't even count how many times you've strutted into a room with your shirt inside out after you've—."

"Go away!" the brunette insisted again.

With a raised eyebrow, Alison noted, "You seem to have a reputation."

"That's such a strong word," Emily said with a strained tone as if trying to convince herself as well as Alison.

"Hmmm," Ali murmured as she slipped her fingers through Emily's and pointed them toward the street.

"Hmm as in 'oh that's interesting but we'll never speak of it again' or as in 'we're going to have to talk about this later'?" Although Emily hoped for the former, she had limited experience with Alison and her level of curiosity.

"I'll let you know," the blonde said cryptically.

Opting not to push, Emily squeezed the hand in hers and said, "C'mon special friend. Let's see what kind of shit storm this lunch can turn into."

* * *

**I hope the wait was worth it! My brain is totally fried. The next chapter is going to be a doozy. **


	10. Chapter 10

**Hi! I know the updates are being posted less frequently, but I've had a bit of trouble writing recently. I won't be abruptly ending the story or anything like that, so fear not. It might just take a little longer until I get my mojo back. Seeing the reviews always gives me a little push to continue on, so thank you for those.**

**I know I previously claimed this chapter would be a doozy, but I delayed it for some sweet Emison time, which will be desperately needed.**

**Enjoy!**

**Oh and this might have borderline M rated material. I don't personally think so, but I have to at least throw a flag up for more than suggestive material. The actual M rated material is a few chapters from now.**

* * *

When Alison and Emily returned to the table greeted by Spencer smirking, Aria smiling and Hanna rolling her eyes, Spencer ventured, "So what were you guys doing back there?"

"Talking," both Alison and Emily chirped in unison.

"At least you two have your stories straight," Hanna commented faintly as she bit down on the straw sticking out of her water glass.

Before either of the two playfully deceitful women could get comfortable in their seats, Emily's phone began ringing in her pocket. When she wiggled it out, she swore when she recognized the name on the caller id, "Shit. I have to take this." She rose from the table and revealed the identity of the caller to Hanna, "It's Jeremy."

As Emily stepped a few yards away pressing the phone to her right ear, Hanna cursed under her breath and then prompted, "We should talk about boyfriends or something."

"Why are you calling me?" Emily's voice could easily be heard, "I don't want to hear any shit from you today."

Alison studied Hanna's alarmed reaction to their ability to overhear her friend's conversation. "We can hear you, Em," Hanna yelled as a warning. Alison's attention bounced between Emily and her blonde friend. While Emily appeared to be distracted by the voice on the other end of the phone, Hanna seemed determined to grant the brunette the privacy she deemed to be crucial.

"Negligent what?" Emily gasped indignantly as she tucked her left arm across her body and squeezed her own shoulder.

"Emily! Walk away!" Hanna screamed. Alison's eyes bulged at the aggressive insistence. Surely Hanna knew her behavior fanned the flames of curiosity rather than suffocated them.

Finally heeding her friend's instructions, the flustered brunette crossed the street to continue her call. "Is she okay?" Alison squinted her eyes with mounting concern. Emily didn't seem the type to get upset very easily and her body language indicated that she was both furious and terrified.

"Umm yeah," Hanna replied unconvincingly, "It sounds like family-ish problems."

"Family-ish?" the other blonde tilted her head.

Rolling her eyes, Hanna briefly elaborated, "Like kinda sorta family problems." Alison caught her glancing across the street as her face contorted with discomfort. "I'm sure she's fine. They're a dramatic bunch."

Since she wasn't going to get any information regarding the distressing phone call from Hanna, Alison asked a question that had been weighing on her mind, "How close were Emily and Duncan?"

Surprised by the question, Hanna said, "Uhh, is this going to be awkward?"

"She asked," Spencer noted swirling pasta around her fork.

"Okie dokie then." Hanna set down her water glass and said, "Yeah, they were really close. Emily had a lot of friends, a couple of girlfriends and other 'friends' in college," she made sure to encapsulate _friends_ with air quotes, "but they were inseparable after they met. I mean, I could separate them." She boasted, "But ya know, I'm special and she has a thing for blondes."

Aria asked tapping her fork into her salad, "Did you and Emily ever—"

"Eww no," the blonde wagged her head, "She's not my type."

Convinced this would be interesting, Alison asked, "How so?"

Hanna lifted a closed hand and raised a finger to count as she listed, "Bossy, obnoxious, overly sarcastic, cocky, stubborn as hell, prettier than me… I could go on."

"Sounds like a catch," Spencer smirked at Alison sliding a bite of chicken between her teeth.

"Some seem to think so," Hanna also cast a leisurely, yet meaningful look Alison's way. She was almost immediately distracted by an infuriated woman flinging her phone onto the sidewalk, cracking it into pieces. As the three other women followed her gaze, she added, "And she has a thing for throwing phones." Publicly expressing her displeasure in such a physical way was a trait Alison would never have attributed to Emily.

"Does that happen often?" Aria asked skeptically as lettuce bound for her mouth suddenly changed course and dropped to her plate.

"Nah," Hanna brushed it off, "Only when she gets really pissed during a phone call. Watch," she nodded at the woman now squatting on the ground, "She'll collect all the pieces, keep the important ones and then throw the rest away. Then she'll come over here and ask to borrow my phone so she can go pick out a new one."

"She's not going to call Jeremy back?" Spencer asked including the name of the caller.

The blonde chuckled at the idea, "No. He knows what happened."

As soon as Emily was within earshot, she asked Hanna as she shoved her hand toward the blonde, "Can I use your phone? My old one broke."

"Broke?" Alison's brow wrinkled as she asked the woman standing next to her.

"After I threw it," Emily clarified with a shrug accepting the phone Hanna handed to her.

"What are you going to tell the people at the store when you pick up a new one?" Ali asked as Emily dialed a number she'd obviously called multiple times.

Putting the phone to her ear, she said, "That I threw it on the ground because I got pissed."

As Emily walked away, Hanna said, "She's nothing if not honest."

"She's definitely one of a kind," Spencer agreed with her hands carefully slicing the chicken breast on her plate.

Jokingly, Alison muttered, "I might be rethinking this now." Although lighthearted, Alison reluctantly admitted to herself that Emily's multiple layers might not reveal the most enticing experiences and qualities. This didn't deter her, but simply heightened her awareness of the possibility that the beginning of this relationship, or whatever it was, might involve a more intense and darker exploration of each others' identity.

"Really?" the other blonde perked up at the blonde's levity, "You're smart. I might kinda like you in this one brief moment. Kinda." Hanna had been waiting for either Emily or Alison to embrace the existence of major, possibly paralyzing obstacles. Alison's acknowledgement of that wrapped in a joking pretense was enough to satisfy her.

"Hey guys," Emily returned and hastily apologized, "I'm sorry, but I've got to run. I need a new phone and then I have a client. I'll see you on Saturday for that party?" She said to both Aria and Spencer as Alison stared up at the woman hovering over her.

"Em," Hanna stared intently at her friend and said quietly, "Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"Right? The party?" Emily ignored her friend. Hanna's vague concern about the phone call and now Saturday caused Alison to teeter on a line of asking for an explanation and allowing Emily to keep her secrets.

"Yeah," Spencer confirmed. "It's at my house. I'll text you the address. I guess you'll see it when you get a new phone."

"Great, thanks." The brunette bent down and smiled broadly at Alison as if they'd just walked out of the alley. Without hesitation or regard for who was watching, she lowered her parted lips onto Alison's. She dragged her lips across the blonde's for too long to be considered a simple goodbye kiss. After about ten seconds, she came up for air and whispered, "I'll see you soon."

Alison's mouth hung open as Emily half skipped, half strolled to her car. "Wow," Hanna said tapping on the side of her glass, "I was not expecting that."

"That makes two of us," Ali agreed unconsciously tracing two fingers along her lips. While she abhorred the idea of hiding their relationship, she never imagined Emily wanting to immediately flaunt it out in the open.

"I think that makes four of us," Aria spoke for herself and the other brunette.

"I didn't know you guys were to the point of rather obvious public displays of affection," Spencer commented across the table to her friend who finally dropped her fingers from her mouth.

"Neither did I," Alison agreed.

"Well," Hanna snatched up her water again to gnaw on the straw, "You'll pretty much never be in doubt about how she feels or at least what she wants."

Alison cast a questioning glance at Emily's friend, "Those are two separate things?"

As three pairs of eyes locked onto her face expecting an answer, Hanna declined with a smirk, "Oh, no way. I'm not gonna be the guy in the middle feeding information."

"Well, she certainly doesn't care what other people think," Spencer made her own assumption about the tall brunette who had quickly captivated her particularly guarded friend in only a few weeks.

"Yup," Hanna's eyes drifted upward as she slurped the last of the water from her glass.

"Hanna…" Alison pried.

"Not going to happen."

Just as curious as Emily's new 'special friend', Spencer coaxed with a friendly grin, "C'mon. Give us something she wouldn't kill you for saying."

"Anything," Alison requested, "How about what she was like in high school?" While she considered the topic harmless, Alison figured it wasn't something Emily would delve into any time in the near future. She'd only received a brief glimpse when the brunette told her the story of their encounter in the bathroom.

With a sigh, Hanna offered, "She was really quiet and seriously one of the sweetest people I've ever met—sugary sweet."

"I honestly cannot see that," Aria said covering her mouth as she chewed on a bite of her salad. "Is that bad?"

"Nah," Hanna replied. "I think she mostly likes who she has turned into. It's good to see her say what's on her mind. In high school, you could never tell with her."

"Did she date anyone?" Alison asked quickly as if it was a normal question.

"That's cheating," Spencer responded pointing her fork at her inquisitive friend.

Enjoying being the center of attention and the girl with all the answers, Hanna answered, "No one significant until senior year. That's mainly because she—" the woman stopped herself realizing she'd just wandered into unmentionable territory.

"She what?" Alison asked folding her hands together in interest.

"I can't," Hanna shook her head. "Ask me something else."

"C'mon, Hanna," Spencer backed up her curious blonde friend. Alison wasn't the only one eager for details about Emily. Although she hadn't yet voiced her opinion, she wasn't confident in Alison's decision to pursue anything romantic so soon after leaving Duncan.

"She will literally murder me if I tell."

Even more intrigued, Alison said, "So it's worth hearing?"

"I can't!" Hanna replied almost begging the women to change the subject.

"You almost told us," Spencer reminded.

Joining her two friends, Aria added, "We won't tell."

Tilting her head back and accepting the fatal consequences she'd surely suffer at the hands of Emily, Hanna revealed, "She had the biggest, most ridiculous crush on this girl junior and senior year. Like huge." She shook off a look of distaste and clarified, "Fortunately, it went away in college."

"On who?" Spencer queried wondering why Emily's crush would be worth hiding.

"I've been sworn to secrecy," Hanna stalled. "I seriously can't."

"Who?" Alison prodded.

"You!" Hanna blurted nodding her head in Alison's direction.

Her mouth dropping open, the blonde replied, "You're joking, right?"

Laughing, Spencer said, "Oh, this is priceless."

When Hanna didn't change her answer, Alison said, "You're serious."

Hanna expounded with a groan and dragging her pointer finger mockingly on the table top, "She doodled your name on her class notes and constantly told me how pretty you looked. I always got pissed because, hello, you made fun of me for years."

Sweetly, Aria said looking at the shocked, yet flattered Alison, "She doodled your name? That's so cute, Ali."

"Did I mention she will kill me if she knows I told you?" Hanna emphasized flatly.

"We won't tell," Spencer assured.

"We're good at keeping secrets," Aria agreed.

Glancing at a silent Alison, Hanna chuckled, "Why so quiet? Don't worry. She didn't stalk you or go through your trash or anything."

"I'm just surprised," Alison admitted. "We never even met." She chose to exclude the incident in the bathroom seeing as they never saw one another's faces.

"You probably just acknowledged her existence one day. She didn't need a lot of encouragement." Commenting on the present circumstances, she said, "This is basically a high school dream come true for her."

"It's so adorable," Aria said with a whimsical smile.

"Aria, the romantic," Spencer mocked her friend.

"Why didn't she just talk to me?" Alison queried tucking her hands into her lap.

Spencer and Aria raised an eyebrow at the absurd suggestion as Hanna scoffed, "Are you kidding? You would have broken her heart into a million pieces by telling her to run back to her loser friends."

Dismissing the joke, Alison asked, "Do you think I'm going to hurt her now?" With this new information, Hanna's wariness didn't seem unfounded.

"I dunno." Hanna challenged, "Are you?"

"So!" Spencer interrupted what wouldn't be an enjoyable tangent, "Who did she actually date in high school?"

Sparing Alison, Hanna said, "A freshman girl in college named Samara." She added, "She actually had a date with her the night you two met," she pointed at Alison.

"We met her," Spencer acknowledged.

Emily's friend expounded, "Emily dated her most of senior year in high school and until her sophomore year of college. I think. It was almost two years."

"You said she had a crush on me senior year," Alison replied defensively twiddling her fingers.

"Jealous?" Hanna laughed.

"Emily obviously knew the futility of unrequited love," Spencer said washing a piece of chicken down her throat with a sip of water.

Nodding in agreement, Hanna said, "She dated someone else like most people do in that situation. She was never an idiot, unless you count having a crush on you."

"You're running out of free passes, Hanna," Alison warned with her hands now flying back onto the table as her nervousness drowned in a shallow pond of Hanna's distrust.

"I can't wait to see this develop," Spencer commented out of fear and anticipation.

"So what about in college?" Alison asked. "Who did she date then?"

Hanna's entire body tensed as if paralyzed with fear at train barreling toward her. After a few seconds, she dug through her purse and snatched out her wallet. She stood and tossed down a twenty dollar bill as she stumbled, "I can't answer that. It's for her to tell. I've gotta go. Things to do. Ya know. Work."

"What just happened?" Spencer asked as they all watched Hanna sprint to her car across the street.

"I have no idea," Alison replied just as confused as her friends.

"That was really weird, right?" Aria spoke up. "It's not just me?"

"No," Alison said, "It's not just you. That was very strange."

"It would appear that college is off limits," Spencer commented setting down her fork and gingerly wiping her mouth with a napkin.

"Any idea why?" Aria asked Alison assuming she might have some insight.

"No. None at all," the blonde replied. "The only thing I know about her in college is that she knew Duncan, drank a lot and got a degree."

"And dated Samara for part of it," Spencer added another tidbit of information.

"So," Aria clarified awkwardly, "We've seen Emily smash a phone and her best friend literally run away from a question about her in college." She glanced at Alison. "Is it okay that I'm worried about this?"

Intrigued by a fly flitting around the table, Alison remained silent trying to collect her thoughts.

"Alison?" Spencer prompted when the blonde didn't respond.

"I'm sure there's an explanation." Alison tore her attention away from the fly.

A bit skeptical, Spencer agreed, "There's an explanation for most things but that doesn't make it a reasonable one."

Instead of answering, Alison began tearing off small bits of her napkin. Aria and Spencer exchanged a glance and mercifully migrated to another topic until they finished the rest of their meal. When Alison's phone buzzed in her purse, she smiled at a text from Emily asking her to come over later that night.

"Is that who I think it is?" Aria pried.

"Don't, Aria," Alison said sternly.

"We're allowed to be worried about you," the other woman continued, "Don't you think you might be rushing things?"

"Really rushing things." Spencer added promptly.

Shaking her head, Alison said, "I really don't want to fight about her."

"We don't either," Spencer said with a hand drifting across the table to grab one of Alison's.

"Then let's not do this right now," the blonde pleaded wanting to bathe in blissful ignorance and indulge in giddiness in anticipation for her visit to Emily's.

"Fine," Spencer conceded with a sigh as she drew back her hand. "But we're discussing this at some point."

"So," Aria shifted moods in accordance with Alison's request, "You're keeping your clothes on tonight right?"

Snorting, Alison asked, "Are you calling me easy?"

"No," the woman replied, "I'm calling you Alison."

"Thanks, _Hanna_," Alison replied with a smirk. "I don't need her rubbing off on the two of you."

Wondering aloud, Spencer said, "What would it have been like if we'd all been friends in high school?"

"Catastrophic," Alison replied knowingly with a smile.

"So why do we think it's going to work now?" Aria commented.

Slyly, Spencer replied, "Because Emily wants to—"

"Spencer!"

* * *

As Alison's fingers curled around the door knob to Emily's unlocked front door and she pushed it open, she chuckled at an unmistakable lyric from the Beach Boys' "California Girls" referencing the intrigue of a Southern girl's accent. Emily swayed to the music as she sat crossed legged in the living room surrounded by numerous piles of comic books.

"Are you seriously listening to the Beach Boys while organizing your comic book collection? I can't decide if that's cute or ridiculous."

Still bobbing her head to the beat, but trading her humming for speech, Emily confirmed, "Well if it isn't my Northern girl." After carefully placing a comic book encapsulated in a clear plastic case on top of one of the piles of comic books on the floor, she rocked backward and then hopped to her feet. Slinking over to the blonde, she added, "I hear their kissing keeps their boyfriends warm at night." Regardless of Alison's personal apathy toward the iconic band, the brunette's flirtatious application of the lyrics gave her a temporary affection for the song.

Clasping the outstretched hand before her as the repetitive "I wish they all could be California girls" faded, Alison replied, "And what do they do for their girlfriends?"

Emily jerked the blonde to her chest and prompted with both hands locked onto her hips, "You tell me."

Smiling at the mischievous woman, Alison answered, "I bet they keep them up all night." When Emily merely grinned in response, the blonde asked, "You wanna put that to the test?"

The brunette's lips crinkled into a smirk. When the song switched to a very familiar instrumental opening of "God Only Knows", her entire face swelled with giddiness. Once again grasping Alison by the hands, she slid backward gracefully until their arms sank into a tight inverted arch. "I kinda wanna know if they can dance."

"No, no, no, no, no," Alison stuttered desperately trying to wriggle her hands free. "I definitely can't dance. No way."

Unfazed by her resistance, the brunette pulled the squirming woman to her and replied, "Well, I can't sing, but the dancing and the singing are going to happen."

Caving to the stubborn woman's wishes and bracing herself for humiliation, Alison stopped struggling and allowed Emily to position their bodies for the impending train wreck of movement. The brunette brought Alison's left hand near the top of her shoulder, while sliding her own right hand around to Alison's back and left shoulder blade. In typical dance style, their other hands folded together and extended outward as Emily's feet engaged in some type of side and back steps.

As soon as the lyrics began, Emily belted out every word while attempting to coax some rhythm into her partner's body. With the brunette's unpolished yet on key singing mixed with the Beach Boys blasting in her ears, matching Emily's steps proved nearly impossible for the bumbling blonde.

Without flubbing a word in the sweet lyric, "God only knows what I'd be without you", Emily raised their outstretched arms and guided Alison underneath them with her right hand. Actually managing a spin with some semblance of grace, the blonde rolled back into the dancer's embrace to be greeted by a swift kiss on the lips before the brunette linked their hands together and nudged Alison outward.

Still singing with conviction, Emily nodded pointedly to her feet demonstrating her simple side to side and backward and forward stepping pattern. Wondering if the brunette actually knew what she was doing, Alison ventured, "Is this an actual dancing style?"

Emily smiled and gestured her dance partner backward and into a free spin. After clasping their hands together again and stepping forward to return her hand to Alison's back, Emily replied quickly over the music, "Modified swing."

While Emily spun them both to the left and glided Alison a few steps past her, the blonde asked, "Modified for what?"

After squeezing her eyes closed and straining at a few high notes, Emily clarified, "Bad dancers."

"Hey!" the fading repeating line of the chorus slowed their movement and this time it was Alison who yanked Emily toward her. "Don't make fun of me."

Pulling a small remote out of the right back pocket of her jeans, the dancer switched off the music and replied with a grin, "But it's so fun."

"Well, you can't sing," the other woman teased as her left hand slid into the now empty back pocket.

Emily tossed the palm sized remote onto the carpet and agreed, "I embrace my flaws."

The blonde gave the woman's ass a tiny squeeze, "I bet that takes a lot of effort."

Wanting a bit of Alison in her hand, Emily drew up the right side of Alison's blouse and grabbed a section of her waist. "What makes you say that?"

While the skin on her side tingled, Alison teased, "There's probably a lot of them."

"You're quite the smartass," Emily noticed with a sultry tone.

"I'm not so sweet and emotional now." Pressing her fingertips tucked into Emily's pocket one by one against the denim covered flesh, she prodded the brunette against her.

"You just can't dance," Emily said as her occupied hand grazed the shuddering skin around the top of Alison's skirt.

Her breathing a bit labored, Alison acknowledged, "We've covered that."

"It's okay," Emily replied with the same rough breathing pattern. "I'll take a Northern girl who can't dance." Earlier in the day, the brunette wore a look of wonder as she studied Alison's face. Now, awe was replaced by an intense gaze of greed. There was an insatiable want flaming in her eyes that cast a sexual shroud over the pair. Alison questioned her shaky commitment to honor Emily's request of delayed intimacy.

Alison muttered, "I hate to break it to you, but I think I actually qualify as an East Coast girl."

Dismissing the idea after biting her own lip, the brunette replied, "Whatever. We're north of something. I figure your kiss can keep me warm at night." She leaned forward with parted lips, but sought out the blonde's ear rather than her aching lips. "Or keep me up at night. Whatever you prefer."

"And well into the morning," the other woman breathed. Tired of teasing, Alison nudged Emily's head back with her free hand and latched her lips onto the brunette's smirking ones. This wasn't gentle or exploratory like their kisses a few hours ago. Although not her typical opening move, Ali plunged her tongue into the other woman's barely open mouth. Although scraped by Emily's teeth, her tongue was met with an equally eager wet, soft warmth.

Alison gasped as nails dug into the flawless skin on her lower back, forcing her to jerk backward to suck in fresh air. Impatient to enjoy the taste of the blonde, Emily's right hand tangled in Ali's hair on the nape of her neck and slammed together their wanting lips.

When Alison shifted and her fully clothed breasts pressed into Emily's covered chest, the brunette released an unexpectedly deep moan. Wondering if it was an incredibly sexy fluke, the blonde squeezed the woman tighter. This time, Emily shuddered and parted their lips to whimper, "Shit, Alison."

Satisfied with the momentary pause in kissing in exchange for Emily's reaction, Alison commented curiously, "I can honestly say I've never gotten a moan like that out of just holding someone against me. You do have a bra on right?"

"Are you really going to dissect this right now?" Emily's lips chased Ali's tauntingly dodging mouth. "I'm just really sensitive." Alison missed Emily's inflection indicating a concealment of the reason for the heightened sensitivity.

Desperate to hear more, Alison's right hand trailed just below Emily's bra on top of her shirt. "No, no, no," the brunette pleaded. Her continued attention to Alison's back and mouth didn't support her verbal resistance. The blonde slid her thumb upward until she encircled the cup of her bra. "Alison," Emily breathed a hollow warning before a pointer finger and thumb pressed firmly as they glided together meeting atop the brunette's nipple, or where Alison imagined it to be. An even louder moan bounced around in their mouths.

Excited enough to dampen her previously dry panties, the blonde replied with a small sound of her own, "Mmmm. What will you sound like when there's nothing between your skin and my hand?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Emily mumbled through clenched teeth as Alison's fingers mercilessly massaged the fabric.

"Yeah, I really would," Alison baited. If she didn't think Emily's suggestion to wait was ridiculous a few minutes ago, she was utterly convinced of it now. If her fingers through a bra made Emily mutter her name in such a deliciously arousing tone, the thought of her mouth wrapped around her nipple with her tongue flicking the raised nub prompted a fantasy of a spontaneous attack with Emily face up on the floor and a hungry Alison desperately clawing off her clothing.

Unfortunately, the brunette intended to keep her word as she swatted the aggressive hand down toward her abdomen. "Patience is a virtue."

"Do I look virtuous to you?" Alison retorted with a defeated sigh as she contented herself with the skin on Emily's stomach. She forced herself to pout despite her delight in tracing the edges of the brunette's subtle muscles. Her fingers paused when they discovered a raised line about two inches to the right and above the brunette's pierced navel. She contemplated passing it by, but when Emily tensed at her touch, she inquired, "Em. What is—"

"Oh," Emily cleared her throat glancing down where her Northern girl's hand rested beneath her shirt, "Just one of my flaws."

"Can I look?" the blonde asked hesitantly. She was relieved when Emily's eyes met hers and she nodded sweetly. Alison lifted up the shirt a few inches as she backed up a step to get a clear view of the thin ridge beneath her fingers. She gasped when she uncovered a three inch scar. The eighth of an inch wide line was pale compared to the brown complexion of the rest of Emily's body. "Oh my god. How did you get that?" She continued to stare at the mark with interest, but not a hint of revulsion.

"Just an accident with some glass," the brunette said blandly.

As her gaze returned to Emily's face riddled with discomfort, Ali noted, "I've been cut by glass and it didn't leave a scar like that."

"I guess I just wasn't as lucky," Emily acted as though her face didn't taint her reply with dishonesty.

Alison cocked her head to the side and said, "Is there a reason you're lying about this?"

With a sigh that made her lips buzz, Emily conceded, "It's a long story, but it really was glass." She offered a smile hoping to convey her sincere intention to one day share the tale she presently chose to conceal.

"You enjoy being mysterious don't you?" Ali placed a reassuring kiss on the rattled brunette's lips, although she was a bit miffed by Emily's refusal to explain the existence of a noticeably large scar.

With an ear to ear grin and thankful look, Emily said as she leaned in to resume the activity her scar so rudely interrupted, "Almost as much as I enjoy this."

They heard a door knob turn and the front door swing open revealing another blonde who exclaimed at the sight of them, "Jesus, guys. Not again. Slow the fuck down with all the…" she awkwardly flapped and curved her hands in the air as if her motions meant something before finishing, "the girl on girl touchy sexy stuff. Once a day is enough for a new couple consisting of one recently engaged person."

Releasing a groaning Alison, Emily replied, "And you barging in once a day is one time too many."

"Well. You're done now," Hanna declared with finality and hands on her hips.

"Excuse me?" Alison returned. Still puzzled by Hanna's abrupt exit at their lunch, she had no intention of submitting to her unwelcome order.

"Nope. You're done," Emily thumbed toward the door. "Make tracks. We can talk about whatever it is later."

"We need to talk about that phone call."

Alison caught the twitch of horror that shot through Emily's body. The brunette replied carefully, "And we will. Tomorrow."

"No fucking way," Hanna scoffed. "As your best friend, I'm required to force you to talk about shit that makes you break your phone."

"Tomorrow," Emily almost yelled. Alison couldn't miss the fear littering Emily's facial features and curling her fingers into fists at her side. She'd momentarily forgotten about the phone call ending with a smashed phone on the sidewalk.

"Now, bitch!" Hanna insisted. It was shocking how the harsh word and tone managed to convey the woman's raw concern for her friend.

"Do you want me to go?" the blonde asked. If Emily's secrecy concerning her scar was any indication, Alison could only assume she wasn't welcome even if the brunette couldn't bring herself to say it.

"No," Emily replied hugging her arms across her own body.

"You're not getting out of this," Hanna raised an eyebrow. "She needs to go."

"Both of you come over here," Emily nodded toward one of the only rooms with furniture.

"Bad idea, Em," Hanna muttered out of the corner of her mouth as she plopped down in a chair at the far end of the dining room table. "Really bad idea."

* * *

**Alright. By the end of next chapter, both you guys and Alison will know most of Emily's secrets. If it takes awhile for me to update, it's because I don't want to screw it up. Gird your loins!**


	11. Chapter 11

**Hello again! Thank you so very much for the reviews, favorites and follows.**

**Prepare for way too much angst. I can't even. I know it's longer than usual, but I promised Emily's answers in this chapter so… here they are, some of them :)**

* * *

"Em," Alison said before the woman could pull her into a chair at the table, "I think I'm going to go. You guys need to talk alone." Although Emily was willing, Alison thought better of inserting herself into this particular conversation.

"Ali, no," Emily shook her head, "I can tell you... if you want." Although it was encouraging that Emily offered to share the privileged information, her uncertain choice of words signaled her reluctance. Confident in her decision to leave, Alison acknowledged the fact that they had really only known each other for three weeks. She knew how to respect unspoken boundaries. There would be plenty of time for them to divulge any secrets or less than desirable aspects of themselves. She preferred to read the book that was Emily one chapter at a time, in order, rather than dive into the middle without context.

"It's okay, Em. Really, it is." With their hands intertwined, she strolled to the front door.

"Whew," Emily's insecurity dissolved instantly. "I dodged a bullet there." When Alison couldn't prevent a confused look from spreading across her face, the brunette explained, "Over sharing isn't something I normally do."

Putting the woman, clearly uncomfortable with the topic of the phone call, at ease, Alison placed both hands on Emily's chest near her shoulders and smiled, "I picked up on that." With Emily distracted by her light hearted words, the blonde stroked down her chest making sure to add extra pressure as her hands trailed over Emily's breasts.

"Holy hell!" Emily hissed and moaned quickly slapping the roaming hands away. Alison smirked deviously.

"I seriously heard that from in here!" Hanna called out disgusted by the noise.

"I can make it louder," Alison returned as she teasingly darted forward to once again grope Emily.

As the brunette swatted at the hands like flies, Hanna asked, "Did you grab her boobs? Cuz that would _definitely_ explain it."

Intrigued by the other blonde's knowledge, Alison abandoned her quest for another arousing sound and asked Emily, "How does she know that?"

The brunette shrugged and offered nonchalantly, "When you have sex with someone, they tend to know those kinds of things."

"What?!" Alison gasped. The revelation plunged into her stomach like a piano shoved out of a window of a skyscraper. The suspicion that the two friends had been together in that way wasn't even on the mile long list of her questions about Emily.

"Does that surprise you?" the other woman asked cautiously with a wrinkled brow.

Her eyes looking a million places other than Emily, Alison blurted, "She said you weren't her type." Her brain couldn't process the news quickly enough to compose herself.

"Well," Emily explained casually, "I was a few times, I guess."

"Ummmm," the word hung in the air for at least two seconds. She couldn't land on a feeling so she could adjust her reaction accordingly. Was she jealous? Or—

"Ali?"

"What? Huh?" Alison forced her gaze to the puzzled Emily.

"You're making a weird face." The calm dotting Emily's voice and mannerisms frustrated the blonde for some reason momentarily unknown to her. Either she was nuts and overreacting or Emily was completely oblivious of the shocking nature of the confession.

While holding back a slew of questions, Alison answered truthfully, "I just had no idea that you'd slept with your best friend… whom I'll be seeing all the time."

Cocking her head to the side with a stern face, the brunette asked, "Did you really buy that?"

"Emily Fields!" Alison declared in disbelief, punching the now grinning woman in the shoulder. It took a few seconds for her to recognize the humor in the woman's audacity.

"Oww!" Emily complained with a giggle. Ali took one more swing. "Seriously. Oww."

"That wasn't funny," Alison latched her fingers to the top of Emily's shirt and yanked her to her chest.

"Au contraire, that was hilarious." Emily's right hand slinked behind the woman and squeezed her ass playfully. "Worth the physical pain."

"Thank god it's not true," Alison sighed with relief untangling her fingers from the material and instead thumping Emily's chin with a smirk.

"_This_," Emily stressed the word referring to their budding relationship, "is going to be fun."

Entranced by the lips, Alison clarified, "More so for you, I think."

Resting her forehead against the blonde's, Emily promised seductively, "I'll make it worth your while."

"Em!" Hanna yelped when she peeked around the corner into the entryway. "Jesus. Keep it in your pants and let her go."

Before releasing Emily, Alison whispered against the woman's lips, "I'll see you on Saturday."

Emily replied as her Northern girl reluctantly pulled away, "Yes you will."

Alison turned to leave, but whipped around to query the Hanna's frowning face poking into the room, "Hanna, you haven't slept with Emily have you?"

"Eww! Barf!" Hanna exclaimed popping fully into view waving her hands frantically. "No way! Eww! Again, barf!"

"I should be extremely offended," Emily rolled her eyes.

"Gag," Hanna concluded motioning as if she was puking.

With a grin, Alison chirped, "That's the answer I wanted to hear."

* * *

"Does anyone know where Emily is?" Alison asked Spencer and Aria as her phone call to Emily went to voicemail for the third time.

"No," Spencer answered as she paused to speak to her friend on her way into her living room carrying a tray of bite sized meats rolled in tortillas. "Are you trying to come across as clingy?"

Annoyed with the suggestion, the blonde retorted, "It's 9:30. She said she'd be here over two hours ago."

"Something must have come up," Aria suggested.

"Maybe she smashed her phone again so your phone calls are all for naught," the other brunette concluded before returning to her guests.

Rubbing a hand comfortingly down her friend's arm, Aria said, "You just need to adjust. You're not used to dealing with someone who doesn't give you an itinerary of their life." She snagged the phone Alison fumbled in her hands and reminded, "When Duncan was actually in town, he was attached to you by an umbilical chord."

"Eww, Aria," the blonde grimaced at the analogy as she made an unsuccessful grab for her phone.

With the phone tucked tightly between her hands behind her back, the brunette chuckled and said, "And you hated it."

"I'm just worried," the blonde huffed giving up on snatching back her phone.

Sweeping into the room with an empty tray, Spencer corrected, "You're nosey." As her blonde friend shot her a glare, she elaborated, "Wasn't it less than two weeks ago that you eavesdropped on one of her conversations?"

"Okay fine!" Alison tossed up her hands in defeat. "I'll stop calling her. Can I have my phone?"

Scoffing, Aria clutched the electronic even tighter, "Nice try, Ali. You forget how long I've known you." When the phone in her hands started vibrating, she swung it to her front and checked the caller id. "It's Hanna," she noted in a puzzled tone.

"Great," Ali rolled her eyes, "She probably kidnapped Emily to keep her away from me and is calling to gloat." Aria handed the phone to its owner and a perturbed Alison answered, "What?" Her face almost immediately dropped, "Hanna, what's wrong with her? Tell me—" the voice on the other end cut her off. Aria and Spencer wore matching faces mixed with confusion and concern. "I'll be right there—Yes—Yes, I want to deal with this." Alison hung up and strutted toward the front door after grabbing her clutch while explaining hastily, "I've gotta go. Something's wrong."

Both Aria and Spencer chased after their friend and Aria asked, "Why? What's wrong? Is she okay?"

"She's not hurt," the blonde assured her friends as she remotely unlocked her car and swung open the door, "but Hanna said I should come if I really want to deal with everything."

"What is everything?" Spencer snapped hurriedly before her friend could pull the door closed.

"No idea," Alison answered. Within seconds, her door slammed, the car's engine roared to life and she quickly backed out of Spencer's ridiculously long driveway. On the phone, Hanna asked her if she was willing to deal with Emily's "shit", as she put it. As she drove with determination, she made her decision.

* * *

When she reached Emily's house, she slowly opened the unlocked door unaware as to what she would find inside. "Hanna? Em?" Alison inquired of the seemingly empty house. She didn't hear a greeting in return, but small sounds from the kitchen quickly caught her attention. She gulped as she hesitantly walked forward. Randomly, the possibility of a very drunk Emily in the kitchen stopped her in her tracks.

"Alison," Hanna whispered as she appeared from the kitchen. "She's in there," she thumbed toward the room. Sensing Alison's state of alarm, she immediately assured, "She hasn't been drinking."

"Did she ask for me?" Alison queried still not knowing why Hanna called her here.

"She's not really in a state to ask for anyone," Hanna said weakly. Alison had yet to see this side of Hanna. Until now, she coated her concern for Emily with aggression. "Just go in there. She wants you even if she didn't ask."

"Okay…" Alison replied quietly as she stepped past the blonde, who folded her arms across her chest and retreated to a different part of the house.

Alison's breath caught in her throat at the sight before her. The strong, sarcastic Emily sat rocking and weeping in a fetal position in a corner of her kitchen. With her chin wedged between her knees, she didn't even glance up at the dumfounded blonde. By the state of her speckled red face and unsteady breathing, she'd been crying for at least half an hour. Alarmed at the state of her, Alison asked despite Hanna's previous statement of her welfare, "What's wrong? Are you hurt?" She practically flung herself onto her knees in front of the distraught woman and asked again, "Em, are you hurt?" A simple head shake served as her answer.

When Emily didn't recoil, Alison scooted to Emily's left side against the cabinets in a cross legged position. Much to her relief, Emily timidly pawed her thigh amidst her sobs. The blonde settled the woman's head on her chest and wrapped her right arm around her. Not much time passed before Emily grabbed Alison's other hand and latched onto it for dear life while her other hand clung to Alison's jacket.

While theories rushed around in her head, Alison remained silent occasionally comforting the hysterical woman with a light kiss on her head. She knew better than to say something insensitive such as "it's okay", when she hadn't the slightest idea what was wrong. After a few minutes, it hit her. Today was Saturday, the day Hanna mentioned previously.

Every thirty seconds or so, Emily jolted a few times in her embrace as her lungs yanked in gulps of oxygen her body needed. The sobs and coughs pooled a wet sadness into Alison's own eyes, but it was a few other heartbreaking sounds that nearly threw open the floodgates. Emily held nothing back as small screams and throaty groans were torn from her heart and scraping the soft tissue of her vocal cords. She wasn't crying in response to some seemingly unforgivable wrongdoing, her entire body racked with unbearable emotions of loss. "She died," Emily choked on her words as the saliva built up in her throat. "Right in front of me." _Dear god_. Alison reeled at the words. It was the anniversary of someone's death.

Many feelings brought on tearful breakdowns, but only grief stripped a person of all control and social awareness revealing a flimsy shell of a flawed human being. Grief ripped a person's soul from reality and plunged it into a hopeless, dark alternate universe where only two people existed—the dead and the loved one left behind. Helplessly the loved one watched as a cold, boney hand yanked the dead from their embrace despite the shrill pleas and cries echoing for miles. As the person sank to their knees, merely a shadow of themselves, the hand returned only to plunge a dagger into a chamber of their heart they didn't know existed. As it twisted and tore a gaping hole, they couldn't see anything but bloody pain. Pain had a form with a blood stained gaunt face and eyes as empty as its victim's heart. It stared down the devastated, wailing person with a somber expression. An upturned corner of its lips seemed to mock the loss.

When the specter faded and the physical anguish jerked the inconsolable person from a surreal nightmare into a harsh reality, the sensations of burning lungs, muscles raw from shaking and vocal cords nearly severed from guttural cries threatened to completely dismantle the already broken individual. Alison let tears trickle down her cheek as she could only imagine what horrible memory Emily must be reliving.

Emily squeaked. "I think it was my fault. I know it's my fault." Alison had no time to respond before the brunette groaned with a sob, "God. There was so much blood." She coughed. "Everywhere. Her shirt, her face, her hair…" she tried and failed to fight off the wheezing and she continued in disjointed phrases, "Her leg was. I knew it shouldn't be like that. Her eyes were. Glass. In her face. Just. Just."

She pushed out of Alison's arms but still propped herself against her side for support. Red splotches covered her puffy face. The woman was almost unrecognizable, a hollow shell of the woman Alison knew. She choked rhythmically as her lungs struggled to recover. Still crying with her face contorted into the most forlorn expression Alison had ever seen, Emily stared deeply into the woman's eyes above her. She wasn't seeing blue eyes, but brown ones frozen from shock, screaming what her mouth couldn't. "She looked right past me." Emily said in a low voice. "Just looked. She never closed her eyes." The brown eyes morphed back to blue and Emily repeated, "She didn't close them."

Alison had no idea how to respond to the vulnerable Emily shaking in her arms. She didn't know this Emily, but she wanted to. She wanted to be the person to keep her from falling apart. For now, she just studied the blood shot eyes as she desperately tried to comfort her without words.

Sniffing as her breathing began to return to normal, Emily's gaze drifted a few inches downward. Alison felt a thumb trace her lower lip. She trembled at the touch. Her eyes searched Emily's face highlighting a deep frown of sadness. After what seemed like several minutes, Emily hesitantly leaned forward aiming her mouth at Alison's.

"Emily," the blonde turned her head and nudged Emily back with a light push on the shoulder. "Not like this," she whispered as gently as possible. She didn't want to deny Emily, but she couldn't kiss her when the other woman's mind was caught in a past loss. She couldn't comfort her like that.

"Please let me," Emily pleaded fighting off another sob.

"I'm not trying to hurt you," Alison explained. "Please believe me."

"Please let me. I need you." the brunette's frown parted releasing a small sob.

Her heart breaking, Alison tried to explain, "Emily, you're thinking of someone else, but I'm here for you."

"She's dead," Emily said as the words kicked her in the face. She cupped the side of Alison's face in her hand. The blonde simply nodded and leaned into the warmth. "You're here."

"Yes, I am," the blonde assured quietly, "I'm not going anywhere."

"And I'm here with you." Emily's lips trembled and she breathed out slowly as her voice cracked, "It hurts so much, but I need _you_."

"And you have me," Alison answered, "But not like this." She couldn't stomach the thought of Emily's lips on hers as Emily's mind imagined someone else in her place.

"She's not here with us," Emily said. She must have known that made all the difference.

"She's not?" the blonde croaked.

Emily mouthed the word 'no' before saying yet again, "Ali, please let me."

The blonde had never heard her name spoken so reverently and lovingly. She'd waited all her life for the sound of her name to flip her insides and offer assurances she didn't even know that she needed. All she could manage was a nod.

Emily's lips drifted slowly to Alison's. Instantly, the blonde sensed the burdens the brunette desperately needed to share. As soon as they met, Alison felt the brunette's pain roll into her mouth. Emily's defenses slowly crumbled with each passing second as the blonde's lips and tongue knocked the once diligently guarded keystone from underneath the tall tower, which sheltered her very essence that Emily had labeled unfit to be seen. As the kissing became more frantic and hands clasped around necks and shoulders, the blonde eagerly received every exposed feeling and experience Emily silently offered.

"Emily," Alison whispered as the brunette's lips trailed down her neck to her shoulder.

"Alison." Emily's lips paused in the crook of her neck. She choked on a sob and buried her face into the blonde's shoulder. "I'm sorry."

"Don't," Alison brushed away the hair covering the woman's face. "I'm here."

"Ali?" the brunette leaned back and asked timidly. "Will you stay with me tonight? Please?"

Without hesitation, Alison kissed the woman on the forehead and replied, "I'm not going anywhere, Em." The brunette tried her best to crawl into the blonde's lap for comfort.

After a few minutes, Emily asked, "Will you go to a meeting with me tomorrow morning? There's one at eight. Hanna checked."

Rocking the woman in her arms, Alison answered, "Of course." She felt Emily smile into her neck. As Emily relaxed in her embrace, Alison finally realized why Hanna guarded her friend so carefully. Despite the brunette's change in behavior and mentality over the years, a very scared girl huddled beneath the layers of attitude. Instead of dealing with her past, Emily had buried it. With a shit ton of snark and harsh candor, Hanna functioned as a secondary defense mechanism driving out any intruder wielding a shovel.

An hour later, Alison lay on her side in Emily's bed with her arms tightly wrapped around the exhausted brunette. Still in her dress and jacket, she sighed contently. Emily had let her into her world and she couldn't be happier.

* * *

Emily awoke curled into a tight ball in Alison's arms in the center of her bed. Hanna, who woke them up at Alison's request, shook her by the shoulder gently and coaxed the pair out of bed. As soon as her eyes opened, the brunette acted as if in a trance. Beneath her emotionless exterior, she still hunched in the corner of the kitchen with her head shoved into Alison's chest. Guilt refused to release her from its iron grip. It had robbed her of every opportunity for a relationship in the past two years. When she found herself faltering in her attempt to make it work with Alison, the slimy fingers of regret and hopelessness slid around her neck threatening to strangle yet another seed of joy. She refused to relinquish the tiny seed, the chance with Alison, and batted away her own personal demons.

She didn't just cry last night because she missed Maya, she bathed herself in her own tears in fear of losing Alison. She felt that hideous beast, her guilt incarnate, towering over them last night and breathing down her neck. Over the years, when he, the creature, invaded her life, she ran for solace, for alcohol. Ironically, he now drooled over her and growled in her ear as she clung desperately to the woman he set out to steal from her. She'd beaten him back last night, but today, she'd banish him forever. She just needed to say everything out loud, to take the power away from the secret thoughts only she and the monster knew.

After changing out of the jeans, sports bra and t shirt she'd never taken off, Hanna made coffee and toast, she burned the first two pieces, and they piled into Hanna's car bound for Philadelphia. Emily stared out the window in the back seat, while Alison held her hand, hoping to offer some small comfort. No one spoke, at least, the brunette didn't hear anyone speak. It was a clear, sunny day, she noticed. At first, she gritted her teeth at the jolly state of the weather, as if was mocking her struggle. After a few seconds of contemplation, she decided it was meant to encourage her instead. She then scoffed at the thought. _Really? I'm taking the weather personally?_ She shook her head and leaned her forehead against the window.

When the trio arrived at the familiar school, Hanna said something as they unloaded themselves. Emily didn't hear it. In her head, she was already standing in front of the crowd vomiting out truths and emotions she'd long since locked inside never to be revealed. In a few minutes, those tiny demons could no longer bang on the paper thin door of their prison and shout degrading, debilitating words, which kept her from a happiness she knew she deserved. She was going to let them out, let them bite and claw her and then throw them out to torment some other man or woman who'd ever made a mistake with consequences they found difficult—no, impossible—to bear.

She didn't notice, but she walked into the room basically propped up against Alison. She thought she was in control, but she'd already relinquished pieces of herself to the blonde. Fortunately for her, Alison wanted more than anything to see Emily free from the chains and cuffs she'd snapped around her wrists two years ago. Her wrists were bloody and in need of bandaging. Once they fell free, the blonde would stay by the brunette's side as her own Florence Nightingale tenderly washing the wounds that could now begin to heal.

Emily felt as though they'd just sat down when someone asked for a volunteer and her hand shot into the air. The surprisingly composed brunette hopped to her feet and stalked to the wooden podium. She crawled out of the shell she'd hidden in all morning and donned her confident demeanor. She knew the facade would fall away, but best to start strong. Clearing her throat with her arms and hands glued to her sides, she turned to the sea of faces. Evenly she introduced herself, "Hi. I'm Emily and I'm an alcoholic. Duh. Or else I wouldn't be up here about to talk way too much about myself." Her fingers silently drummed against her thighs, "I've shared a few times before and it's usually because I've relapsed." Her eyes darted to Alison, who swallowed her reaction. "Honestly, I wish I was up here to talk about that, but things in my life are changing and I need to admit some things to myself and to other people." As she took a deep breath, she raised her hands from her sides and flattened her palms onto the podium. Her gaze locked onto the black nail polish on her fingers and she spoke carefully, "If I keep punishing myself, I'm going to miss out on someone really amazing. I'm sick of," she paused, "sabotaging my own life."

Before she continued, she shook her head and scooted the podium to the side, "You know what? I can't stand right now." She grabbed a metal chair next to Alison and pulled it to where the podium used to be. With the back of the chair facing the crowd, she straddled the seat and said, "There's really no good way to start this, so…" she sighed heavily before practically coughing out the words, "My girlfriend, Maya, was killed in a drunk driving accident two years ago. Yesterday was the anniversary." She plunged forward without waiting for any response from the flabbergasted audience, "It was a one car accident and she was driving." Her right hand grappled uncomfortably with the left side of her neck as her eyes stared down at the gym floor. "And I was in the passenger seat. I made her drive because I thought she was just a little buzzed. It wasn't like we'd never driven home buzzed." Her hand stilled, "We'd done it dozens of times. I was falling over drunk and I whined because she wanted to get a cab." Her foot began to tap, "We'd been at a party at a local bar. It was probably the third or fourth graduation party that week.

"So I complained about the cab and she drove." She cleared her throat as she crossed her arms, propped them on the back of the chair and leaned forward, "She drove and she died." The last sentence was so simple, yet powerful, but she delivered it with a minimal amount of emotion. It was so matter of fact. Behind her controlled facade, her words ripped her insides to shreds.

"It was raining," she recalled, "and she wrapped my car around a pole." Her eyes flitted upward, "It was so… so hazy. I was seeing double, but I heard skidding, her screaming my name and the horrible sound of the impact. She threw her arm across my chest trying to protect me." Alison caught Emily's eyes glazed with tears as the brown orbs fell to the floor. "I was never consistent with seat belts when I drank but she strapped me in before she pulled out of the parking lot. I think I told her that I loved her." One of Emily's legs twitched as she sniffled. "That weird, slurred 'I love you'. She protected me and I put her in that seat. I ki—" her voice cracked and she didn't finish the sentence.

"I put her in that seat because I didn't want to wait for a fucking cab," her head wagged back and forth in disbelief of her selfish actions. "After we hit the pole I slapped the exploded airbag out of my face and looked over and the driver's side door was caved in so much that I didn't even have to stretch out my arm all the way to touch it." She paused before continuing, her eyes still fixed on the grimy floor, "When I saw her face, I put my hand on the left side and shards of glass dug into my skin. I don't remember much, but what I do… I wish I remembered less. Her leg was… bent and there was…" her voice faltered and her words strung together haphazardly as her fingers scratched at the chair, "blood and I… and bone and one of her arms and hands… and her fingers." Her hand migrated to her face and her fingers clawed at her lips as she continued, "I couldn't look at her body anymore so I looked at her face and I can only remember the glass and blood and her eyes.

"Since I was drunk I don't really trust my judgement of time, but she was alive and she hung on for what seemed like half an hour." She pressed her lips together fighting back the onslaught of emotions and then said, "She couldn't talk. I didn't even look to see why she couldn't talk. I was afraid to touch her because…" she almost scoffed at the irony, "I didn't want to hurt her. I'm sure she only hung on for a minute or so, but I'll never be able to shake the sound of her breathing, if you could call it breathing." Emily rubbed her throat along her windpipe as she described with a contorted face, "I didn't know you could actually hear blood filling up in someone's lungs." She could no longer fight off a single tear as her head jerked up hoping gravity might stop the drop of emotion from sliding down her cheek. "It sounded like she was drowning. It was this horrible, haunting gurgling sound."

For a few agonizing seconds, the brunette found herself in her car with her body numb from shock. She couldn't peel her eyes from the sight. Beneath the brown skin on her throat, Maya's windpipe rippled up and down frantically. Emily's nostrils were assaulted with an unrecognizable smell oozing from the deployed airbag. Blood dribbled down Maya's forehead, cheeks and throat. Each time Emily blinked, she prayed the liquid would turn to water and she'd be wrapped in Maya's arms standing in a shower. With each raspy gasp and frothy choke, she watched the fantasy slip away, torn from her thoughts by the blood, glass and the pole now another passenger in the vehicle.

A hard blink flushed away the memory. "Her eyes were wide open just staring straight ahead. There were tears on her face. She never looked at me," the brunette said with a tiny head shake as her gaze finally fell upon the group and scanned it. "In the movies, people who die tragically have the time to say goodbye and tell people that they love them. I think that's bullshit." She claimed dramatically with the fingers on her right hand pursed together motioning up and down deliberately, "If someone's body is completely broken and blood is pouring out and shit is sticking out of them, how the hell can they feel anything but pain? They just want it to stop. I waited for that romantic moment, but Maya just wanted it to be over." She could no longer face her peers as she stared down at one of her feet. "I hope it was over quickly.

"When she finally stopped breathing or choking or whatever that sound was, I just screamed and cried and begged for her to come back. I shook her so hard I wouldn't be surprised if I broke something that hadn't already been broken. I didn't even feel or notice the glass in my hands, side, arms and face or the fracture in my left arm. It was completely overshadowed by my entire world falling apart right in front of me." She stopped to steady her breathing and wipe away a tear, "It's actually a feeling—your world fucking falling apart. I had no idea it was a feeling. I was drunk off my ass but I was conscious enough to realize that it was done." Her arms fell limp, "My life as I knew it was done. And I… and I did it."

Screaming in the car, she could hear the faint wail of sirens and dozens of people shouting. Then there were faces, faces of people trying to help, trying to save her. Her pupils dilated when light from flashlights darted all around the car's interior. Slabs of metal were yanked away and arms carefully lifted her from the crumbled heap that had once been her car. Her own shouts and sobs drowned out voices demanding details.

"I don't know how long it took the police, the EMTs or whoever cut us out of the car to get there. When they dug us out, I just kept screaming her name and crying and cussing them out telling them to help her. My throat was completely raw for days. I've never cried that much in my life." Her right hand began rubbing across her mouth as her elbow came to rest on the back of the metal chair.

"They packed her in an ambulance and I had to beat off a couple EMTs when they tried to take a look at me. They didn't know if I was wearing my blood or Maya's." Her words tugged her back to that night. There were so many hands, so many faces and so many questions. She only cried and smacked away hands in response. She needed Maya, not these insistent strangers. "They let me ride, wrapped in a blanket, with Maya in the ambulance. At some point, a police officer or someone, it wasn't me, called Hanna and she met me at the hospital. I just sat in the ER waiting room… on the floor… a pathetic bloody mess." She trembled as if she once again sat on that white tiled floor. "A friend of mine at the time, Duncan, he showed up too. I remember him holding me and letting me punch the shit out of him. I was so mad. Or I was something. I dunno." She still couldn't place the mix of emotions flashing over her and pounding against her eardrums like the multicolored lights and thumps of the bass at a rave. "I just needed to hit someone, to throw all the shit in my head at something or someone else. Hanna and Duncan didn't say much because they knew I didn't want to hear it.

"Finally a doctor came out and told me what I already knew," her voice jumped an octave as it cracked on the last word. She remembered the woman's eyes. They were green, tainted with hesitancy and sadness. "She was dead." The word hit her like a train like it did every time she said it out loud. "She also told me something I didn't know. Maya had a blood alcohol level of .08. Right at the legal limit. I didn't talk for a few minutes after that. My brain was too busy trying to understand why I told her to drive, but every thought seemed to trip up before it could finish. I thought she was mostly sober. Did you hear that? _Mostly_ sober. That's the type of person that I was then." She picked at the tips of her fingers scratching her nails along her skin.

"At some point, I was dragged into a room so I could have a few pieces of glass pulled out of me. It might have been before the doctor came. I don't know. Oh and I had a fractured arm and crazy seatbelt burn. Whiplash too, but I didn't feel that until later." She added as an afterthought. "Then Hanna and Duncan took me to my apartment. Duncan was there and then he wasn't and Hanna was there all night and the next day. I didn't really sleep. I drifted in and out, but every time I slept, I'd see her—I had a reason to stay awake. I threw up a lot. They gave me some blood at the hospital so I don't know if it was the alcohol still swirling around or how disgusted I was with myself or how badly it hurt knowing that… I wasn't going to see her in the morning. Or the next day or the day after that." That night, the cool rim of the toilet bowl offered the only solace she'd experienced in the past few hours. It soothed the left side of her puffy face. Hanna tried to gently pull her head away and back into her lap, but Emily couldn't let go of the cool feeling of the porcelain on her skin. It felt good. Nothing else did.

"Once I was actually able to process what happened, it might have been the next day or a couple days later, I dunno. I found someone to blame. I couldn't blame myself because it hurt too much that even alcohol couldn't numb it, so I blamed Duncan." She spared her finger tips from the abuse of her nails and scooted herself around in the chair. She gripped the seat and continued with her voice steady and face devoid of flashes of emotion, "He was at the party, but he left around… I don't know what time he left. He said he had somewhere to be in the morning. He was our designated driver, but Maya promised that we would get a cab, because we'd taken a cab before when neither of us could walk more than five feet without toppling over. I blamed him and I refused to see him. The first time I've seen him since then was actually about a week ago. He and I haven't talked about it too much except for him to say that he forgave me for what I did." Guilt strangled her. She'd repaid his understanding of her behavior all those years ago by taking the person he wanted to marry. While she reminded herself that Alison's decision stemmed from a lack of love for Duncan on her part, it didn't change the fact that Duncan was alone.

Anxiously, she wiggled around in the chair. Her inner struggles intertwined with her physical discomfort. "I don't know how to make this stop. It's like the shame is just stuck inside. I haven't tried to be with anyone because there's no room for anyone with all the dirty hateful things I say to myself. Life is just so short and a mistake can be deadly. I made a mistake and Maya made a mistake and she's gone." She paused and mused, "Sometimes you don't realize that when you're with someone, you can't just hurt them emotionally, you can hurt them physically. It just takes one mistake, one stupid mistake and that's it."

Fumbling with her jacket, she gingerly pulled a small box out of her pocket. With all ten fingers cradling it, she settled her hands on the back of the chair. Unable to fight off a stutter and sniffles, she stumbled through, "I umm… about a week after she died umm… I was going through her things and I found this." She stared at the small box holding an engagement ring. "I've only opened it once on that day and I thought it was beautiful. I also… also found a notebook with ideas for a proposal. She even had a date picked out… it was a couple of weeks from the day she—" she couldn't say the word again. "She loved me so much that she wanted to spend the rest of her life with me. She trusted me with her life and I fucked up. I fucked up and I can't fix it. I couldn't fix it.

"I don't know how to trust myself with someone else. I didn't leave someone or cheat on them or treat them like shit, I killed someone that I would be married to right now." She wasn't hurting because she still wanted Maya, but because the Emily from two years ago desperately wanted it. She'd moved on from Maya, but escaping the guilt and fear was impossible. "I need this to stop. This is the only way I can think of to start. If anyone has any suggestions, feel free to let me know… because I want to move on and I want to be someone that isn't afraid to take a chance. And not be afraid to be with someone because something bad _might_ happen. I'm going to make mistakes and I need to be okay with that. I don't feel like I have an excuse to not be happy anymore. And obviously this makes me want to drink a lot. I guess I should have led with that. I drank a lot before she... and I drank even more after it happened. It was the only thing that made the pain stop. But umm… Yeah… So… Just like I didn't know a good way to start it I don't know how to end it so… that's it."

Emily quickly stood, pushed the chair back in place and stalked to the door. She didn't want anyone's eyes boring into her head or have people come up to her after to identify with her struggle. She didn't come for consolation, she came to give a voice to things that had been crippling her for so long. After she wandered aimlessly down the street, she found herself in a swing a couple of blocks away from the school.

A few minutes later, Alison strolled to her side and sank down into one of the swings beside the silent, thoughtful brunette. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Too fragile and discombobulated to carry on a conversation, Emily grabbed the woman's hand and answered, "Not really."

"Okay," Alison smiled with understanding. "We can just swing."

"Don't be too eager," Emily replied as some of her energy returned, "As my girlfriend, you'll probably hear about this shit again and again."

"As your _girlfriend_?" Alison stressed the word they had yet to speak.

Digging her feet into the ground and kicking backward, Emily nodded, "Yeah. You can make it Facebook official."

"Because nothing is real unless it's on Facebook?" Alison smirked.

Passing Alison on a downward swing, the brunette replied, "Pretty much."

"Emily," Alison said quietly.

Emily's feet dragged in the dirt as she stopped her swinging, "Alison."

"I trust you."

The simple declaration, if true, filled Emily with both terror and comfort. For the first time, a twinge of hope brightened her outlook offering a second chance to trust and be trusted by another woman. Although the thought seemed disrespectful to Maya's memory, the brunette couldn't shake the feeling that Alison was the person she'd been waiting for all along. She'd soon realize that she wasn't settling for second best. She was purging herself of doubt and guilt and welcoming the woman who would put her back together, heal her and protect her for the rest of their lives. Kicking off again, Emily returned, "You're an idiot."

Swatting the brunette as she swung past, Alison said, "You could at least wait a couple of days before calling your girlfriend names."

"I'm out of practice," Emily shrugged as she propelled herself further forward and higher into the air. The women's playful banter continued for a few more minutes as Emily mentally unwound from some of the most exposing minutes of her life. She'd known paralyzing pain, but never the vulnerability required to temper it. Glancing to her left, she smiled at the blonde throwing smirks her way in response to her snarky comments.

"What are you looking at?" Alison asked.

Emily responded with an unusual amount of butterflies crashing around in her chest, "My beautiful girlfriend." She added after the blonde smiled at the sweet response, "Who's an idiot."

* * *

**I'm physically exhausted from writing this. Ha. I'm sure this explains why I wrote "Busted", which you should read if you want something more uplifting. Also, you could go read MysticalGoddessOfWords's "The T-Shirt". It'll also make you feel better.**

**Thank you so much for reading! I promise the next chapter won't be this heavy. No more intense emotions for awhile.**


	12. Chapter 12

**Hiya! I know it's been over a week. Writer's slumps blow. Plus, y'all liked the last chapter so much I'm afraid I'll never be able to replicate its awesomeness. Oh, sorry about inflicting sadness upon you, butttt that was kind of the point. I know; I'm mean. :) Speaking of your reactions, reading your compliments is extremely humbling. I just write for fun when I'm not being a computer nerd. So thank you, thank you, thank you for all of your kind words. Hugs all around.**

**I did want to specifically call attention to something that a guest mentioned. Sorry I can't respond to you personally, but I wanted to thank you for the constructive criticism and for caring so much :) You're completely right. I tend to drive the plot forward too quickly and the characterization and evolution of Emily and Alison's connection has suffered a bit. I'm going to do my best to reel back the intensity and just let Emily and Alison get to know one another. Instead of me blabbing about how I plan on fixing it, I'll let the writing speak for itself. However, if I haven't recovered in a few chapters, be sure to let me know! I'm counting on you, Guest :)**

* * *

On Wednesday afternoon, three days after the remarkably intense AA meeting, Alison ascended the steps to Emily's office off the main street in Rosewood on her way to her restaurant in Philadelphia. Whether intentionally or coincidentally, the two women hadn't seen each other since that day. The only communication had been spotty texting from which Alison learned of Emily's distaste for emoticons. Alison wasn't paranoid, but she did have something on her mind she'd rather not discuss on the phone. Plus, she missed her. A lot.

When she swung open the door, she was greeted by a small empty waiting room with half a dozen chairs. Although Emily worked primarily in several sports facilities, she preferred to handle consultations in an actual office. Her entry shattered the silence, which quickly caught the attention of the only occupant in the office. "Ali, is that you?" Emily called from a private room a few yards away.

Alison trudged to the open door wearing a look of determination. From her limited experience with Emily, she knew she could derail any conversation with her charm with very little effort. The brunette's head popped up from behind two computer screens and greeted the blonde with a grin. Walking to the edge of her girlfriend's desk to Emily's right, Alison said, "Do you think it's weird that we know incredibly personal things about each other, but not each other's middle names? Like we've skipped a bunch of steps?"

Raising an eyebrow at the abrupt entrance and random question, Emily offered, "I'm so out of the dating loop. I thought this was normal." When Alison's head tilted slightly to the right and the corner of her eyebrow tipped up every so slightly, Emily offered a straight answer, "Yeah. It's unorthodox."

"I mean, I know about Maya and—"

"Ali," the brunette coaxed her girlfriend closer and grabbed her left hand, "I didn't mean to rush this or basically force you into knowing about her." She pushed aside a few paper forms when Alison leaned up against the desk. "I brought you because I'll probably never be able to say some of those things out loud again." She brushed her thumb over the top of the blonde's hand, "You needed to hear it. It was just horrible timing."

Alison cupped her right hand over Emily's and smiled sweetly. She didn't want Emily to think she didn't appreciate the sincerity and transparence, but too much too fast was the perfect way to describe the current situation. Her gaze flitted down to Emily's sleek keyboard. There was something specific that bothered her so she mumbled, "You still have the ring she gave—she was going to give you."

Emily stood pushing her rolling executive chair backward still clinging to her girlfriend's hand. "I have no idea what to do with it." Although the voice was soft, the confidence assured the blonde that keeping the ring in no way meant that Emily's heart was trapped beneath six feet of dirt.

"Isn't it like she's around all the time?" Alison asked wondering how painful it must be to have such an imposing object in her possession.

The brunette pulled her hand from between the blonde's and with both hands on Alison's hips, she twisted her until the back of Alison's legs were flush against the desk. Standing in front of her, Emily shook her head, "You have _no_ idea." Even though her touch rooted her to Alison, Emily seemed a million miles away. The far off look convinced Alison that she truly hadn't the slightest idea. "I'm open to suggestions," Emily offered. When the blonde looked confused, she clarified, "About what to do with the ring."

When the brunette tapped on the sides of her thighs, Alison lifted herself onto the desk as she suggested, "Her family?"

Emily snorted as she opened her girlfriend's legs to squeeze between them. "No way in hell. They hate me and the feeling is mutual." Her fingers tickled the blonde's exposed knees.

Staring at the brunette's fingers teasing her skin, she asked, "Do they hate you because of what happened to Maya?"

"They never liked me." Emily noticed Alison's dress crumpled under her upper thighs and she pulled it down almost to her knees. "They thought I was a slut who seduced their daughter. On top of that," she noted solemnly, "tragedy can turn hatred into something super scary." Her palms turned upward when Alison's fingers dropped down to stroke them soothingly.

"Well," the blonde replied cheerfully. "My parents would like you." Alison was relieved to see the beautiful smile return to her girlfriend's face.

"Oh would they?"

She bounced a finger against the tip of the woman's nose. "My dad would for sure. You might have to work a little with my mom."

"We're talking about parents," the brunette chuckled. "Speaking of moving too fast."

"How about we do something normal?" Alison plopped her palms behind her as Emily gripped both of her thighs.

"Sure," the brunette shrugged, "Whatever you want."

"I get to pick?" the blonde asked with giddiness.

"Seeing as our last outing was to an AA meeting, you've earned first choice." Emily patted her left thigh with a smile.

"Good." Alison's thoughts immediately began to churn. She knew exactly what she wanted to do, but she had a feeling Emily would hate her for it. Well, not hate, but she would give Alison more than a few glances of annoyance and several minutes of whining.

"You wanna clue me in?" the brunette asked.

"I'll let you know," the blonde pursed her lips not wanting to reveal anything.

Knowing she'd get no more information about their impending outing, Emily said, "Hey, Ali."

"Yeah?" Alison replied a bit hesitantly after seeing a nervousness shoot across her girlfriend's face.

"I really just don't know what to do with it. That's the _only_ reason I still have it."

"Em," the blonde assured, "It's okay. I believe you." She scooted herself closer to the edge and grabbed onto the front of Emily's shirt pulling her forward. She couldn't decide what she liked most about Emily, her ever present brash and sometimes dodgy sarcasm or the brief glimpses of her kindness and vulnerability. The darkness of her past and violent outburst with the phone unsettled her at times. She couldn't deny that, but she hoped their journey into normality would fully color the spectrum of her girlfriend's personality.

Emily mumbled with Alison's face less than a foot from hers, "Oh and this moving too fast thing includes this." She teasingly plucked every one of the blonde's fingers from her shirt.

"Not fair!" Alison pouted letting her rejected hand fall into her lap.

The brunette tossed Alison's hair behind her left shoulder. Two of her fingers traced a faint trail from her ear to the neckline of her dress on her clavicle. "Awww," she poked out her lip before tracing the invisible line with her lips. "Poor Alison," she muttered against her girlfriend's neck. Alison craned her neck to her right offering more skin to Emily's nibbling mouth.

Knowing Emily would refuse to share these sensations with the rest of her body, Alison's neck and shoulder shuddered with a multiplied amount of pleasure. While her nerves fired off waves of heat to the tips of her fingers and toes, Alison commented with a faint pant, "I don't mind if you're a slut, you know."

Sharp streams of air tickled her skin as Emily chuckled, "I'm going to assume you don't mean that as an insult."

"I definitely do not." Alison's right hand pawed around for Emily's left and as she guided it to her side, cursing herself for always wearing dresses. If her girlfriend kept refusing to undress her, only her neck and shoulders would enjoy her touch. Skirts might be a better choice. It also wouldn't kill her to slide on a pair of jeans. They didn't at all detract from her figure. Ironically, a dress provided the most easy access. "Jesus, Emily," she groaned in frustration not realizing she'd muttered it aloud.

Amused again, Emily leaned back and said, "I'd just like to say that I haven't turned down a beautiful woman since high school."

"But you've turned down _not_ beautiful women since high school?"

With a raised eyebrow and a shrug, the brunette admitted, "What? I can be shallow."

With a chuckle, the blonde draped her arms across Emily's shoulders and locked her wrists together behind her neck. "Do I have a superficial girlfriend?"

Sighing sarcastically, Emily admitted, "A slutty, superficial and damaged girlfriend. You've stumbled upon a very odd trifecta."

Alison smirked, "Who is turning down my very enticing advances." Her girlfriend nearly knocked her backward when her hands slithered between Alison's arms locked behind her and forcefully clamped her face between them. Emily dove forward eagerly. The blonde grunted when Emily's lips and nose slammed against hers. In Emily's haste, their teeth clashed sending a somewhat uncomfortable jolt through their gums and to the roof of their mouths.

"Sorry," the brunette mumbled quickly before adjusting her angle and attempting to relay her desire in a much less painful way. When Alison parted her lips to reply with a sarcastic comment, Emily forced them closed with a few sloppy wide kisses before burying her lips firmly into Alison's. While Emily made it beyond clear that she _wanted_ Alison, the blonde reveled in the bubbling realization that Emily wanted to be with her, to know more about her than where to touch to make her moan.

When Emily pulled away, Alison asked with her eyes still closed savoring the ghostly feeling of Emily's lips."Why the hell are you turning down a beautiful woman now?"

"Maybe I want to be more than superficial," the brunette pried her girlfriend's arms from behind her neck. "Maybe you're different."

"How?" Alison queried with her eyes opening and her tongue tasting the remnants of the kiss on her bottom lip.

Smirking at her girlfriend's dramatic attempt to cling to the past few seconds, the brunette replied, "I don't know yet. Oh," she walked her fingers up Alison's forearms. "My middle name is Catherine, by the way."

"Lauren," Alison replied with a smile.

"So. Since we skipped a bunch of steps, should I ask about your favorite color? Or your hobbies? Or what kind of music you like? Or what you want to be when you grow up? Or where you see yourself in ten years?" Emily rattled through a short list of getting-to-know-you questions.

Alison kicked her in the back of her thigh. "Smartass."

* * *

Alison prodded Emily into a store in Philadelphia as the woman huffed, "I can think of at least fifty different things more appealing than being here right now."

When she nudged the brunette off the sidewalk and across the threshold, Ali chuckled, "That's a bit dramatic."

Sarcastically, Emily glanced over her shoulder and said, "I think I need to get my oil changed."

With eyes locked on a decorative console table that caught her eye, Alison swept past her girlfriend and noted, "I'd be a terrible girlfriend if I let you live in an unfurnished house." As her fingers glided across the stained wood, she added, "It's sad in there."

Emily scanned the walnut table in front of her Northern girl and replied, "First, that's hideous." She received a glare as a response. "Secondly, it's _awesome_ in there."

"Having shelves installed for your comic books doesn't make it awesome," Alison flashed a smirk as she peeped around a tall cupboard surveying the layout of the furniture store. Four days ago, they decided to engage in a normal activity devoid of deep discussion and shocking revelations. They'd jumped from acquaintances to confidants in less than a month. Before they both collapsed under the weight of their combined burdens, they hopped back to the beginning. A casual outing seemed to be the answer, but Emily wasn't too thrilled with Alison's seemingly random choice. Since they were trying to get to know one another, the blonde jokingly insisted that a person's home reflected a their personality. After some persuasion involving more than words, Emily reluctantly agreed to a trip to Philadelphia that weekend.

Emily flicked the beaded strands dripping from a tall standing lamp and replied, "Umm. Clearly you don't know how rare some of those comics are. Some are even CGC graded." Emily informed Alison as if 'CGC graded' meant something to her.

As Emily seemed determined to protest the shopping trip both verbally and non-verbally, Alison shook her head at the brunette grimacing at a large leopard patterned lamp shade. "You mean the comics in plastic cases?"

"Mhmm," Emily acknowledged equally disgusted by the animal print shade's twin reading lamp. "Don't ever google how much those are worth." She glanced at her girlfriend, "Hanna almost threw up."

Brushing her fingers down Emily's left arm, Alison queried, "Did you inherit more than a car from that 'relative'?"

With a wide, teethy fake smile, Emily shook her head slowly in denial.

Before Alison could pursue the topic further, someone inquired over Emily's shoulder, "Hello ladies." When Emily stepped aside and faced the owner of the voice, the blonde groaned as the young man who couldn't be over eighteen raked each woman in turn from head to toe. "Can I help you two with something?"

Not acknowledging the boy's attention to her chest, Emily said, "Yeah. We're looking for the exit."

With the boy's eyes roaming to Alison's hand snaking its way around Emily's back, the blonde responded, "We're just browsing."

Not deterred by the brunette pulling her girlfriend's hand further around her, the store clerk answered, "If you need my help—"

"We won't." Alison cut him off through clenched teeth. She'd forgotten about some men's blatant disrespect for lesbian relationships. They saw it as more of a tease than a hard stop like a straight relationship. Taking one last long look at the irritated blonde and unfazed brunette, he nodded with a creepy sexual appreciation before swiveling confidently and strutting down a row of end tables. "What a fucking sleaze."

"This place is huge," Emily noted in a thoroughly dejected tone as she accepted the inevitability of the lengthiness of their trip. Before unwrapping herself from her girlfriend's embrace, she pecked her on the cheek.

Grinning at the attention, Alison replied following the other woman who flicked every table she passed as if rejecting each one, "Well, your living room is empty and the only thing in your bedroom is a shitty mattress and a TV tray. You're basically in need of everything."

Alison caught the gleam in Emily's eye conveying the gratitude despite her complaints as the brunette conceded, "Let's start with couches then." She tossed herself into the first one she saw, which happened to be an alarmingly disgusting shade of purple. Rubbing the fabric on the cushions, she added, "Let's get the sitting down and standing up routine over with first." She flung out a hand for Alison's assistance.

While heaving her girlfriend to her feet, the blonde asked, "Do you have a color scheme in mind or…" Her voice trailed off at the jokingly blank look on Emily's face.

"Did you hire an interior decorator for your house?"

"Hell no!" the other woman brushed off the idea. Emily chuckled as Alison clarified, "I did it all myself."

With a shrug, Emily suggested, "Then you do it. Your house is nice."

"Really?" Alison returned with a puzzled expression.

"If there's one thing I don't care much about, it's the color scheme of my house." Playfully poking her girlfriend in the stomach, the brunette said, "You dragged me here, so you do it."

Snorting, the other woman said, "You care about that speaker system."

"I'm sorry," Emily apologized sarcastically dropping down into a hideously upholstered love seat, "A speaker system wired all through the house is a necessity."

"Fine," Alison accepted the task of furnishing her girlfriend's apartment.

"I'm pretty sure you already have ideas anyway," the brunette patted the floral cushion next to her.

Reluctantly sinking down onto the love seat, the blonde agreed, "Of course I do." She had an opinion about everything and if she was going to be in Emily's house frequently, she'd like to _not_ hate her surroundings.

When Alison quickly hopped to her feet as if the flowers and vines decorating the love seat bit her in the ass, Emily pushed herself up and asked, "So what does my indifference say about my personality?"

"I'll hold out on judgement," Alison smirked, "because it's not looking good for you."

* * *

Throwing her head back and groaning, Alison slapped her hands into the cushions on either side of her, "This is the fifteenth couch you've said is 'fucking ugly'. I can't really help you if your only feedback is cussing and then sticking your tongue out like a three year old."

"I don't like them," Emily answered matter-of-factly as she darted her eyes over Alison's shoulder.

"You told me to do this," Alison reminded twisting around to follow her girlfriend's gaze. She'd been periodically glancing in that direction for at least ten minutes. Just like the last time she checked, the only people she saw were an older couple and a sales guy who was probably in college.

"Oh. I didn't tell you about the part where you make suggestions and I veto everything?"

As Emily pulled the blonde to her feet, Alison said, "So much for indifference." She stood beside her girlfriend facing the same direction hoping to figure out what kept distracting her.

"A sectional that's only nine hundred bucks?" Emily's eyes drifted once again. "Too cheap. We're on the wrong side of the store."

Finally identifying the object of Emily's attention, Alison commented on the sales guy in a blue shirt staring back, "Huh. That's weird." When his curious stare shifted to a gaze of less than pure intentions, she said, "Should I be jealous? That guy is eye fucking you and—" her amused tone dissolved when she caught her girlfriend returning the look, "And you're doing it back!"

Ignoring the comment, Emily strolled a few yards away, "Let's try over here."

With narrowed eyes, Alison followed the oblivious woman keeping a close eye on the man as she quickly flipped over a few price tags, "Do you see how much these are? I'm a snob and even I think this is ridiculous."

Locking her knees, Emily leaned downward near a couch for no particular reason, "Oh don't worry. This furniture is _much _cheaper than you think."

"What are you doing?" Alison hissed as the leering boy admired the sight.

"Bending over."

"To look at what?!" the blonde snapped. "The floor?! That guy is totally checking you out."

Emily straightened up and grinned, "I know. Don't scare him off."

Alison parked herself between the boy and her girlfriend and said, "If you're trying to find a sleazy sales dude, we passed him at the front door."

The brunette didn't touch her girlfriend, but teased verbally, "Oh Alison. You of all people should know what I'm doing. When you want something, you look for hints of confidence, but hesitance when you actually show them attention." She gestured past the blonde, "He's perfect."

"You're going to haggle for furniture with your ass?" Alison crossed her arms not at all happy with what was unfolding.

"With my charm, Ali," she flicked the tip of the pouting woman's nose, "Don't be crude."

"You just bent over right in front of him," the blonde swatted away her girlfriend's hand.

"Ever heard of 'hook, line and sinker'?" the brunette smirked. When the blonde simply scowled in return, she explained, "This is how I furnished my apartment in Philly after college. Do you know how inflated the price of furniture is?"

"Did you have a girlfriend with you last time you tried to seduce a store clerk with your eyes?"

"I brought Hanna. She's a pretty kick ass wingman. The guy thought I walked on water after she was through with him."

"Can I help you?"

Alison gritted her teeth at the sound. When Emily sidestepped to her right and smiled broadly, she knew it could only be one person.

"Hi… Sean," the brunette greeted after glancing down at the name tag. "I was hoping that you'd come over here." The blonde's hands clenched at her sides. She felt Emily intentionally brush two fingers down the back of her hand. "This is Alison, my interior decorator." The blonde plastered on the least disgusted smile she could muster and turned around as Emily continued, "She has a some ideas, but I'd _really_ like it if you helped us."

"Because someone in my profession _definitely_ needs your help," the blonde growled.

Keeping the man focused on her, Emily added, "You look like you know what you're doing."

"You just have that intuitive look about you," Alison claimed. "I'm sure _you_ can find something that she likes." She whispered into her girlfriend's ear, "This is disgusting. If he looks at your boobs one more time I'm going to rip his throat out."

Emily smiled at the man before replying softly, "There's no need for throat ripping. He's not the one who will be fucking me on the furniture." The blonde cleared her throat at the unexpected reminder. Satisfied with the shocked look, Emily pulled back and said, "Ali, why don't you tell Sean what you had in mind. Oh, and I'm looking for a u-shaped leather sectional with a chaise and I'd like to stick to espresso colored wood for end tables, a coffee table and a media center." Alison rolled her eyes at Emily's first acknowledgement of what she actually wanted. She'd been too busy canvasing for a target to bother expressing interest in the furniture Alison had suggested.

"Do you have a budget?" Sean asked trying to decide which furniture to focus on.

"Well, I have an entire living room picked out a couple blocks away for five thousand, but I was hoping I could do better somewhere else." Emily's voice was dripping with a repulsive amount of sweetness. Alison preferred her snark to this heavy coating of charm. "They were going to charge me for delivery and assembly."

Rejecting the idea with a hand wave, the boy assured, "I'll be sure to waive that."

"And I'm paying in cash."

"Oh," Sean's face lit up, "I can definitely help you out then."

Still wearing the adoring look, Emily said, "I knew I was glad that I came here."

"Me too," Alison offered. "I'm _so_ glad I had this idea."

"Do you want to stay in this area?" Sean asked referring to the higher end sectionals.

"If you think I can come out better than five thousand."

Confidently, he replied clasping his hands together, "The markup here is almost criminal, but most people just pay the sticker price."

Pleased with the opportunity, Alison noted, "It's crazy how many gullible idiots there are in the world." Emily snorted.

Oblivious, Sean directed toward Emily, "And you're not one of them."

Both Alison and Emily inwardly gagged at the compliment. The blonde said, "No, but she can spot them from a mile away. It's a gift." The brunette lifted her hand to her mouth to stifle a laugh.

After clearing her throat, Emily suggested, "Why don't we go over there?" She pointed over the man's shoulder. When he turned, she quickly planted a kiss on her irritated girlfriend's lips. "Behave." She followed with a peck on her nose.

"It's fucking gross," Alison whined.

Following Sean, Emily asked, "Isn't it something you would do?"

"I just scare people."

"Good thing we're doing it my way," Emily replied knowing Alison's method would get them nowhere fast in this scenario.

"Your _gross_ way," Alison reiterated.

Emily smiled broadly, "Your jealousy is adorable."

* * *

"I'm so glad I came here," Emily said for what seemed like the millionth time. She, Alison and Sean sat at a table in the back of the store where they had negotiated the final price for a very nice bedroom and living room set. Not wishing to torture Alison for too long, Emily chose quickly so the ordeal ended in about half an hour. Thanks to her flirting and negotiation skills, Emily paid only seven thousand for all of it. Even Alison was impressed. "Before I sign, let me call the other store and give them the bad news."

When Emily walked away, Sean asked the blonde hesitantly, "Do you think I could get her number?"

"No you can't get her number!" Alison barked no longer able to contain her annoyance.

Alison felt a hand on her shoulder when Emily returned to sign. "Alright. Is that everything?"

"Uh yeah," Sean replied conflicted as to whether to heed or ignore the blonde's advice. "That's everything."

After quickly signing her name and helping Alison to her feet, Emily said, "Thank you so much for your help." She pulled Alison to her side, tilted up her chin with a finger and placed a kiss on her lips. "Wasn't he helpful, babe?" she said not taking her eyes off the blonde struggling with both giddiness and anger.

"Wait. You two?"

"Yeah," Alison snapped. "My girlfriend just played you to get a discount on some fucking furniture."

"What?" the now very embarrassed young man croaked.

Somewhat apologetically, Emily said, "Sorry about that. You're super nice and everything."

"Told you she could spot gullible idiots," Alison smirked seeing him cower. "So you can stop staring at her. It pissed me off thirty minutes ago and it's _really_ pissing me off now."

"I—I've got—gotta go," Sean stuttered as he backed away from the couple tripping over a chair in the process.

Commenting on the terror on the retreating man's face, Emily's said, "You're right. You do scare people."

Still not amused by the last half hour, Alison tucked her arms across her chest and stalked toward the exit. When Emily caught up to her, she said, "You should have warned me."

"And missed out on your slew of angry faces? Not a chance."

After they stepped outside, Alison turned and said sternly, "Warn me next time. Watching that man undress you with his eyes was just—just—."

"I had no idea you were so protective," Emily grinned at the frowning face.

"Well, I am," the blonde shrugged off her girlfriend's attempts to pry open her arms.

"Stop pouting, Ali." Emily said as Alison finally dropped her arms. "I don't like guys." She guided the limp arms around her waist. "I like you."

The blonde couldn't help but chuckle at the childish statement, "Do you?"

With a wink and a firm kiss on the cheek, Emily declared, "Now I need a mattress."

Alison yanked the woman close and narrowed her eyes, "I draw the line at you crawling into bed with a sales person."

"Fine," Emily huffed. "I'll have to think of another way."

* * *

"Emily," Spencer glanced up at the woman standing to the side of the booth she and her piles of class notes occupied.

"Spencer," the brunette replied with a smile. "Do you always bring school with you to dinner?" she asked as she slid into the other side of the booth.

"Do you always wear workout style clothes to a nice restaurant?" Spencer nodded at Emily's attire as she closed her laptop and collected her notes into a single pile.

Glancing down at her light blue raw cut tank top revealing a black sports bra and tight low-rise nylon and spandex pants, Emily said, "I like to be comfortable when I'm visiting my girlfriend."

Spencer chuckled, "At her newly opened high end Italian restaurant?"

Emily looked to her left and snorted when she spotted a man in a suit and his date in a far too flashy dress raise their eyebrows in disdain. Since they were only one table away, she asked, "Really? My clothes distract you?" The well dressed woman pursed her lips and shook her head judgmentally. "Cuz I can always take them off if that would help." The brunette snickered at her own suggestion as the couple tossed their noses in the air before returning to their meals.

"You're something else," Spencer commented. "No wonder Ali likes you."

"She likes my disregard for dress codes?"

"Em!" Alison gasped at the sight of her girlfriend, "What the hell are you wearing?"

"Maybe I spoke prematurely," Spencer noted.

Emily scooted to the edge of the booth and pulled the appalled blonde toward her, "It's nice to see you too."

The brunette's hands pressed into her lower back and playful smile melted Alison's irritation. Cupping Emily's face in her hands, she replied, "Hi there."

Emily felt her insides flutter and a heat shoot through her face to her ears. Her hands nearly slipped from her girlfriend's body as her muscles turned to jello. As a thumb caressed her left cheek, her skin tingled and mind fogged. What the hell was this woman doing to her? Although no stranger to a barrage of feelings attacking her senses, Emily rarely experienced anything other than lust. She hadn't felt this playful giddiness since she first met Maya.

In Emily's mind, the sarcastic Emily Fields skipped through a dense field of sunflowers. The sun peeked over the horizon and light fanned its way across the blue sky tinting the spotty white clouds with shades of grey. With every brush of Alison's thumb, a frisbee sized leaf kissed her cheek as she streaked past. Although completely lost, she blissfully sprinted toward the rising sun as she smelled the earth smiling after the rain and felt the soggy ground caking itself between her toes. She didn't even like sunflowers; she didn't like feeling vulnerable. However, as her lungs and legs powered through the waves of unfamiliarity, she smiled. She could get used to this. "I missed you," the words slipped out accidentally.

Pleasantly surprised, Alison pressed her lips to Emily's. They held the chaste tender kiss for a few seconds. The sound of their lips parting stretched a smile across Alison's face. "It hasn't even been twenty four hours," she joked releasing her hold and stood upright.

The brunette's hands clasped Alison's in her own. She glanced down sheepishly, "I know. I'm that pathetic clinging girlfriend."

"I might forgive you for tramping into my restaurant dressed like that," Alison tucked a lock of hair behind Emily's ear.

"I just needed to see your face," the brunette looked up and muttered.

Smiling widely, the blonde commented, "Ms. Fields. I think you're quite infatuated with me."

Although there was no denying that, Emily's initial attraction to her girlfriend evolved little by little every time they saw one another. Because of the unusually intense circumstances surrounding their first few encounters, inflated feelings of emotional attachment hitched a ride on Emily's snowballing high school crush. Day by day, the previously heightened reality settled into a comfortable normality. She stopped dunking Alison into the bog of her past and just focused on getting to know her. At first, her seventeen year old self offered many high fives for landing the girl she liked in high school. She was beautiful, to be sure, but little things she did or said dotted her appearance and glazed her physical features with pieces of her personality. Just like any woman falling in like, she was completely smitten with Alison and she was loving it.

"Do you know how happy I am right now," the brunette said.

Alison blushed, "Almost as happy as me."

"I don't get it," Spencer shattered the trance and said to Emily. "Two seconds ago, you unnecessarily offended the couple at that table and now you're literally melting into my friend's arms."

"What did you do?" Alison asked playfully as if preparing to scold a child. She waved Emily further into the booth and slid in next to her.

"I told them I could take of my clothes if they didn't like them."

"I wouldn't mind if you took them off," Alison teased holding Emily's left hand between hers.

"I was here first," Spencer said spreading her arms over her papers. "I cannot possibly be productive with you two mooning over each other."

"Did you just use the phrase 'mooning over'?" Emily chuckled. She rarely heard the term used in that context.

"Sometimes I think she's a fifty year old trapped in a twenty four year old body." Alison smirked at her friend.

"At least I don't dissolve at the sight of my boyfriend."

"Oh please," Alison waved off the comment, "You dissolve. Our love life interactions are just graded on a sliding scale because of Aria."

"Oh, Aria," Emily plopped her chin into her right hand. "Her once illegal relationship still flourishes."

"It is astonishing," Spencer agreed as she stretched over to grab her glass of water on the far end of the table tucked behind small bottles of olive oil, salt and pepper.

"Well," Emily noted thoughtfully and nodded toward Spencer, "You're still with your boyfriend from high school and so is Hanna. You're all nuts."

"You're so polite," the amused blonde commented.

"You only say that because it didn't work out with your high school girlfriend," Spencer replied taking a sip of her water.

"It definitely did _not_."

"So that date didn't go well?" Spencer inquired.

"Pfffftt not really," Emily sighed. "I didn't really care but my ego was a bit bruised when she left my apartme—the restaurant," Alison raised an eyebrow at the correction, "and told me she didn't think we would work out. Second time she's done that to me. I was actually going to say the same thing, but she beat me to the punch." Emily slid her hand from between her girlfriend's and threaded her arm between the back of the booth and Alison's back.

"Ouch," Spencer winced with commiseration but followed quickly, "Sorry you didn't get the chance to do the rejecting."

"Well…" Emily hesitated before she cleared her throat and said confidently, "When I saw Alison in the restaurant after seeing her in the meeting, Samara didn't really have a chance in hell."

"So that's why she left 'the restaurant'?" Alison asked knowingly.

"Once again, you're cute when you're jealous," Emily smirked and pecked her girlfriend on the cheek. "And you totally blew off my compliment. You better savor them now because after the infatuation wears off I'll—"

"Who says it will wear off?"

"Me!" Spencer chimed in, "Like right now. I need to study."

"You're at a restaurant," Emily laughed sinking down into the booth.

"Yeah," Spencer agreed. "I get free food and it's quiet."

"How do you afford your house?" Emily wondered aloud. "You're still in school."

"She's a Hastings," the blonde reminded. Spencer rolled her eyes obviously accustomed to her name being thrown around for special privileges.

"Are you arguing with me?" a shrill voice rang out from the booth behind Alison and Emily.

"No ma'am," replied a subdued male voice. "I just—"

"I know what I ordered and this isn't it," the voice grated on Emily's nerves and she shot her girlfriend a sympathetic glance. With a groan, Alison rolled out of the booth and Emily's embrace to face what sounded like an incredibly irrational customer.

Alison stepped just out of Emily's line of sight and the brunette heard her ask politely, "Ma'am is there a problem?"

Unable to see the complaining customer, Emily imagined a bean pole thin, uptight bleached blonde with too much makeup, a hooked nose, diamonds dripping from around her neck and an obnoxiously large diamond on her left ring finger. "This young man is incompetent. I said I wanted chicken parmesan, not this. It should be a red sauce, not a white."

Alison replied calmly, "I'm sure it was a mistake in the kitchen, not at all in his control. I can—"

"What are you? A hostess?" the skinny, hooked nose woman accused. Spencer's mouth dropped open.

"No." Alison snipped before continuing cautiously, "I'm not a hostess."

"I'd like to speak to a manager."

While Spencer laughed into her hand, both she and Emily scooted to the edge of the booth so they could witness Alison's reactions to the shrew of a woman.

Alison's hands were clasped together in front of her with her nails digging into her skin. "I'm afraid that he's busy."

"Well," the woman demanded, "I want to speak with someone in charge. Not one of you two."

The look of frustration on Alison's face swelled into pride as she answered, "I own this restaurant so you're more than welcome to discuss this with me, but _not_ in that tone."

"You? But you're—"

"What can I do for you?" Alison cut off the woman's response that she had no desire to hear.

"My chicken is supposed to be—"

"Is that what you wrote down?" the blonde glanced at the nervous waiter who nodded. "There must have been a mix up in the kitchen, as I said before, that's not his fault."

"If he took my order correctly, why would they—"

Alison interrupted, "In case you don't know how a restaurant works, the chef and the kitchen staff cook the food. Not him."

Spencer was overcome by constant sputters of laughter while Emily managed to restrict herself to small chuckles as she enjoyed every second of her girlfriend's verbal annihilation.

The woman gasped and sneered, "Don't talk down to me."

Alison smirked, "I'm just trying to make things simple for you."

The sharped tongued woman slammed her fist onto the table, "Say something!" Emily assumed she must be addressing a companion.

"Sorry, lady," Alison's eyes darted from the spot across the table and back to the steaming woman, "Your date thinks that you're bat shit crazy. Just fyi."

"You know what? Screw you!" Emily heard shuffling and the woman saying, "This is no way to treat a customer."

As the woman slid off the bench, Alison offered with a shrug, "Only I can treat my employees like crap."

When the woman finally stepped out of the booth, Emily accidentally muttered, "Holy shit." Her image couldn't have been more wrong. Beautiful auburn hair flowed down her shoulders to her perfectly sized breasts. They were actually too perfect and too high so they must have been fake. Her dark blue dress hugged every curve and clung to her thighs just long enough down to accentuated her legs. After completely sizing up the distasteful, yet extremely attractive customer, Emily's eyes returned to her girlfriend's face. "Dammit," she sighed with guilt when Alison flashed her a look of amused annoyance. The brunette had been caught red handed. She plastered on the most adorable smile with matching apologetic eyes to which the blonde simply rolled her eyes in return.

"What are you?" Spencer chuckled after witnessing the short exchange, "a horny thirteen year old boy?"

"I just appreciate beauty and—"

"Oh please. You _are_ horny." Emily glared at the other brunette's smirking face. "I know you two haven't had sex yet."

"What?!" Emily gasped. "She told you that?" The topic of sex never bothered her, but the mention of the lack of it embarrassed her.

"Did you tell Hanna?"

"…yeah." Emily admitted. She bit her tongue at the reminder of her and Alison's avoidance of intimacy. Although she stood by her decision to wait, not an hour passed without her thoughts straying to a very naked Alison panting and writhing beneath her.

"In the interim, I recommend you to _not_ appreciate beauty right in front of her. She can't be held accountable for her actions," Spencer chuckled at Emily's raised eyebrow and sigh of defeat.

"Yeah, I've gotten a taste of that," Emily muttered as she fought off a picture of Alison's face between her legs.

"Oh my god!" Spencer noted leaning forward, "You're thinking about her right now."

"Jesus!" Emily jerked throwing one of her legs over the other. "Are you always this creepy insightful?"

The woman replied, "I know what lust looks like." Gesturing to her notes and law books, she added, "I would be a shoddy lawyer if I couldn't read body language and facial expressions, Em."

Emily smiled slyly, "Well _Spence_, I could just tell you what I'm thinking about if that would make it easier for you."

With a finger pointed at Emily's head, Spencer declared, "No. No. No way. I'm begging you to keep that to yourself."

"You're lucky you're not Hanna."

Spencer nodded gratefully, "I'm assuming you wouldn't leave much to the imagination with her."

"I told her something once and she avoided me and couldn't look me in the eye for a week," Emily declared triumphantly. Hanna totally had it coming, but even Emily felt a little guilty when Hanna twitched at the sound of her voice. Granted, she did sneak up behind the blonde and moan softly in her ear more than once. She was such a terrible friend.

"Speaking of appreciating beauty," Spencer nodded at what Emily assumed to be a now empty booth behind her.

She peeked around the edge and immediately cringed at the sight of a happily abandoned man in a red button up shirt with a meticulously trimmed beard, whose date had bolted, standing way too close to Alison. Emily recognized the leering gaze and threw herself out of the booth. "Whoa there tiger!" She hopped to Alison's side and nodded to the man's jacket on the table. "Your jacket is right there and the door is over there."

Not deterred by Emily's sudden interruption, the man replied evenly, "Thanks for pointing that out." He smiled at the blonde smirking at her girlfriend's outburst. "I'd really like to—"

"Jacket," Emily shoved the black sports coat into the man's arms. "Door. Now." When the brown haired man didn't budge, she snipped, "This is me _politely_ telling you to leave."

Draping his jacket over one arm, the man glared and retorted, "What is your problem?" His eyes darted back to Alison and he was equally confused by her lips tucking between her teeth in amusement.

"I'm not blind," the angry brunette replied. "I recognize all the signs. Don't ask for my girlfriend's number." She refrained from shoving the man backward, "And don't stare at her boobs! Seriously?!"

"You're lucky," the man smiled at Emily as he shrugged into his jacket graciously accepting defeat.

Scowling, Emily returned, "I would take that as a compliment if you had more than her body in mind."

"Jacket. Door." The man suggestively winked at Emily before strutting to the exit.

"Dick," the brunette said to no one in particular as she stepped back into the booth across from Spencer with her girlfriend at her side.

While Emily grunted profanities to herself, Alison patted her thigh and commented lightly, "Well that's a double standard if I've ever seen one."

As the brunette glared at her girlfriend, Spencer stated, "Wow, Emily. Possessive much?"

Accepting the sarcastic praise, Emily smirked as Alison poked her relentlessly in the side. "Thanks, Spence. And hey now!" she snagged Alison's hand. "Don't pretend you didn't like that."

"What's this about a double standard?" Spencer queried.

Emily pinned Alison's hand to the table and the blonde replied, "She let some guy hit on her to get cheap furniture." She smiled at her girlfriend, "Now you know how it feels."

"Again. Wow." Spencer said watching the two women across from her tease each other like children. "What would you do for a car?"

After pressing the back of Alison's hand to her lips, Emily joked, "I'd be sure to keep on my pants."

"There will be none of that, not anymore," the blonde jerked Emily by the chin. Over the past two weeks after the AA meeting, the two women had spent several days together and each time they teased each other more than the time before.

"Nope. Not anymore."

"Has anyone told you how gross it is to watch you?" Spencer asked with her entire face scrunched with distaste.

"See," Alison smiled broadly. "I told you we'd gross people out."

* * *

**I need to use Spencer more often. I like that chick. I hope I started to back away from the crazy amount of angst Emily and Alison were sinking into. Let me know if y'all liked the fluff!**


	13. Chapter 13

**Hiya. So I know this has taken a long time. Believe me, no one is more disappointed than I am that I don't update quickly. Work is dominating most of my waking hours so I don't have very much time to sit down and write anything worth reading. Trust me, you don't want to see any of my half-assed work.**

**I'm glad that y'all want to read more! I'm writing as quickly as I can. There's good stuff in the near future, including the sexy times I know everyone is eager to see. I've switched the rating to M for a brief mention in this chapter.**

**This chapter turned out to be Hanna talking a lot. She tends to do that.**

* * *

Emily's stomach rumbled as she knocked on her girlfriend's front door. She was beginning to regret foregoing breakfast for this brunch at Spencer's house. Tapping her foot impatiently, she hoped Alison was ready to walk out the door or she might have to raid her kitchen.

When the door swung open, Emily's jaw dropped and her stomach was attacked by another feeling quite different from hunger. "Hey babe," the blonde greeted smiling from ear to ear.

"Hi—are you—I'm—what—umm" the brunette muttered several random words as her eyes roamed up and down her girlfriend wearing only a pair of black lace cheeky panties and a matching bra. While her mouth wagged up and down releasing only small grunts, her eyes feasted on the abundance of exposed skin paying close attention to Alison's chest. In typical Emily fashion, she began her visual exploration by approximating the size of Alison's breasts pouring out of the tight bra. She smirked realizing that she definitely wasn't wearing a push-up bra—that was all Alison filling up the cups. In college and over the past few years, she made a habit of guessing push-up bra or not push-up bra. It amused her.

"That's a strange look," Alison chuckled watching Emily's head tilt as she thoughtfully studied her breasts. "That's neither sexy nor romantic."

"Huh?" Emily had to clear her throat of cobwebs weaved from lust to form a sentence. "Sometimes I'm not good at either of those things." She was now both hungry and horny. She needed food and a bucket of ice water. She gulped when Alison stepped forward. Okay, she needed five buckets of ice water.

"Come in," the blonde guided the stunned brunette in by the hand, stepped past her and shut the door. As she turned back, she commented, "I've gotta say, this isn't the—"

Emily's left hand pushing her against the door and a finger pressed to her mouth silenced her as Emily whined, "Why are you doing this to me? I'm hungry."

Alison kissed the finger on her lips and said, "You sure know how to make a girl feel special when she takes off half of her clothes for you."

"Oh, Alison," Emily replied with a devious grin, "You have no idea how special I can make you feel."

"You sound quite confident," Alison smiled wrapping her arms around her boasting girlfriend's waist.

"Well," the brunette admitted playfully trying to keep her left hand from diving under the black material a few inches below her hand on Alison's stomach. "The first time maybe not so much, but after that—" she tipped forward to appease the blonde's begging lips. Alison's eyes had been glued to her lips so when they finally met, she sighed with relief. As Emily's fingers threaded through the hair on the back of Alison's neck, the blonde slowly slid her lips against Emily's savoring the tingles and the wet sounds accompanying every movement.

Alison nibbled on Emily's bottom lip before tilting her head to the right and thumping the tip of her tongue against her girlfriend's top lip. Emily eagerly beckoned the blonde's tongue inside as her mouth widened. When Alison's tongue rolled over hers, Emily felt Alison's nails dig into her lower back. Although momentarily distracted by the blonde's tongue and lips, the skin beneath her left hand reminded her of the explanation she had interrupted.

Stilling the movement of their lips, Emily gently placed three closed mouth kisses against her girlfriend's lips. With her forehead pressed to Alison's she continued, "after the first time, I'll always make you feel special."

Brushing their noses together, Alison teased, "Are you saying that you're not good the first time?"

The brunette snorted and clarified, "I won't know what's good for _you_ the first time." Alison's darkening blue eyes nearly shredded her remaining threads of resolve. Fortunately, she had a couple of years of practice relentlessly teasing women. Even Alison couldn't break her. However, the existence of feelings plunged her into an unknown territory. She'd become accustomed to sex only for pleasure and forgotten that romantic feelings added an entirely different dimension to sex. It wasn't just sex; it was intimacy.

She dove forward once again and barely managed to squeeze her tongue between Alison's teeth. Her tongue hastily swept inside her girlfriend's mouth and against her tongue. The blonde welcomed Emily's determination and parted their lips only to suck in air. After a minute or so, the brunette's tongue retreated not wanting to literally choke her girlfriend. While the blonde panted, she planted a quick kiss on her forehead.

Breathlessly, Alison said, "So you'll know by the second time?"

"Mhmm," Emily grabbed one of Alison's hands from behind her back and explained, "You'll tell me what you like and don't like."

"Will I?" Alison asked watching Emily step back and caress her palm.

Entranced by the blonde's hand and what she planned to do with it, Emily nodded, "I'll be able to feel what you like." She flattened Alison's hand, palm down, above her navel. The blonde gasped at the pressure on her abdomen. Biting her bottom lip, Emily guided the trembling hand downward with her fingers wrapped around Alison's wrist. "I'll also be able to hear what you like."

As her fingers peeked under her panties, Alison asked, "Em, what are you—shit."

The brunette grinned at her girlfriend's tiny yelp when her pale fingers touched her clit. "Well, I kinda figured you'd like that." When Alison's hand didn't move, Emily asked, "So I shouldn't move after that? Dead fish hand?"

Alison unconsciously began stroking herself and complained, "This is the _worst_ kind of teasing."

Maintaining her grip on Alison's wrist, Emily commented, "I'm just trying to learn."

"Fuck you," Alison scolded weakly as she shuddered under the touch of her own hand.

"Yeah you will," the brunette assured studying her girlfriend's busy hand. "Many, many times." Alison's teeth were clenched and smothered any noise trying to escape. Only her labored breaths could be heard as they shot in and out of her nose. "Are you always this quiet?" Emily asked glancing up at Alison. "Cuz this isn't going to work."

Alison smirked and taunted, "You'll find that out when you do this yourself."

Dramatically, Emily sighed letting go of the blonde's hand, "I guess it will have to wait then."

"Oh my god!" Alison yanked her hand out of her panties and groaned at her failed attempt to lure Emily into touching her. "I got almost naked and you _still_ won't—"

Emily pecked the exasperated woman on the lips and said, "I told you that I'm hungry."

"Seriously?" the blonde slipped from between Emily and the door and said, "You'd rather have food than me?"

Cocking an eyebrow, Emily scoffed at the suggestion, "Ali. Are you kidding?" When the jokingly pouting blonde turned around, she continued, "I'd go without food for days to have you." Alison smirked and Emily amended her statement, "Well, not days. Maybe a few hours." She tapped a finger on her chin and decided, "Actually, I'd like you with food nearby."

"Emily Fields," the blonde smiled, "What do I have to do to get you into my bed?"

"Well," the brunette pulled Alison into her arms, "You could start by not acting so desperate."

"Hey!" Alison poked her girlfriend in the side and declared, "Just for that, I'm not giving you a second chance." She pushed out of the laughing woman's embrace and strutted around the corner toward her room. Two seconds later, she popped back into view and asked, "Are you sure you don't want me?"

"See? Desperate," Emily shook her head and shooed the woman toward the bedroom.

"You're going to regret this later, my dear!" Alison shouted from down the hall.

"I'll take my chances!"

* * *

Emily breathed a sigh of relief as she and Alison strolled hand in hand into Spencer's house and toward a back door to the covered back porch. Food was almost in sight. Her mouth started to water as the scent of bacon wafted from the kitchen. As they stepped outside, Alison heard something that immediately piqued her interest, "Did someone say strip club?"

"Oh joy," Emily muttered shaking her head.

Swiveling in her chair and smiling broadly at the approaching couple, Hanna said, "That's the topic of the hour."

"Hanna is forcing us to tell our strip club stories," Aria noted shoveling fruit onto her plate. As per usual, Hanna had broached a juicy topic littered with stories of Emily's adventures.

Chuckling, Alison commented to Aria and Spencer, "There is nothing for you two to tell."

"Yeah, I know," Hanna rolled her eyes after taking a swig of her orange juice, "Aria's story is that she _has_ been to a strip club and Spencer's is that she _hasn't_ been to a strip club."

"Sorry we're so boring," Spencer laughed pouring syrup over her pancakes.

Sinking down into a chair next to Aria, Emily replied with surprise, "Spencer, you've never been to a strip club? Umm, we're going to have to fix that."

"We?" Alison shot the question to her girlfriend seated to her left.

"Damn this is a lot of food," Emily said eyeing a plate of bacon, a tall stack pancakes, a bowl of fruit and an overflowing plate of assorted muffins on the table. She rubbed her palms together in anticipation and nodded in answer to her girlfriend's question, "Definitely. Maybe for some special occasion."

"Or just because," Hanna offered. "Emily doesn't need a special occasion to watch girls get naked."

Distracted by the food, Emily asked pointing to a group of tiny muffins, "What are these?"

"Egg muffins," Spencer replied.

"Sweet!"

Ignoring Hanna's attempt to bait her and watching Emily pile six slices of bacon and three egg muffins onto her plate, Alison asked Emily, "Really? You seriously want to go to a strip club?"

Hanna snorted with a bite of pancake hanging out of her mouth, "When did Alison DiLaurentis turn into a prude?"

As Alison rolled her eyes, Aria stabbed a strawberry with her fork and answered, "I'm thinking this has more to do with Emily checking out half naked girls."

"Because she seems to have an inappropriate inclination to appreciate beauty," Spencer added carefully cutting her pancakes into small pieces.

"Hey now," Emily jumped to her own defense suddenly very aware that she was the topic of conversation. She continued while pouring orange juice into a small glass, "I do _not_ check out half naked women."

"The girls she checks out always have clothes on," Hanna clarified. When Emily raised an eyebrow, Hanna shrugged, "What? I'm trying to help."

"Well, stop helping," Emily said crunching on a piece of bacon. "Damn this is good Spencer."

"Why thank you."

"So back to you going to a strip club," the brunette returned pointing with the rest of the bacon slice. Alison bit her tongue while she scooped fruit and plopped two blueberry muffins onto her plate.

"Do we need to reopen that topic?" Spencer queried when she saw Alison swallowing hints of irritation.

"Look," Emily explained waving her fork before skewering a piece of fruit from the bowl in the center of the table, "You've never been. It's like a right of passage as a human being to watch women get naked and throw money at them." Biting into the cantaloupe on the end of her fork, she concluded, "And feel kinda sorta bad about it later."

Alison shook her head continuing to keep silent. Aria chuckled while Spencer crossed her arms and sarcastically replied as she recalled a story Hanna had told last week, "Is getting drunk, falling off a porch and waking up in the bushes wearing only your underwear at a frat party also a right of passage as a human being?"

Mouth full, Hanna raised her hand, "It was for me."

"We're not going to a strip club," Alison said decisively as she pulled apart one of her muffins.

"I'll ask again later," Emily smirked.

"You'll get the same answer."

"Uh huh," Emily leaned back with her arms crossed behind her head and winked, "Sure."

When Hanna noticed the glare bouncing between her friend and Alison, she groaned after washing down a bite of pancakes, "God, you two should just stop acting like your bodies are fucking wonderlands. Em, if you haven't seen her boobs, she probably doesn't want you staring at someone else's. Jesus. It's not fucking rocket science." She paused and rolled her eyes at her comment, "And I can't believe I just defended Alison."

Alison's eyes widened at Hanna's reference to their sex life, but it was Emily who spoke. "Please no John Mayer references," she sighed dragging her hands down her face trying to wipe the sudden attack of exhaustion from her features. Several unpleasant developments over the past few weeks had made it difficult for her to sleep at night. She'd been dodging most of Jeremy's calls and Duncan was—_Fuck_. Just thinking about him tempted her insides to barrel out of her mouth.

Popping a blackberry from her fruit salad into her mouth, Spencer said to Hanna, "Isn't it a bit early in the day to break out the 'f' word?"

With a piece of pancake dangling from her waving fork, Hanna complained, "Okay. So in my new friend group, we have brunch, who the f—eff does brunch, and we can't say the 'f' word before when?" She glanced at a nonexistent watch on her wrist, "3 in the afternoon? Is that right before tea time?"

Throughly enjoying Hanna's antics, Spencer replied before carefully sliding a perfectly cut piece of pancake into her mouth, "Something like that."

"Just so you know, Han," Emily said, "This is not how you make friends."

Spencer chuckled, "Just be thankful I've already dealt with a bitchy friend for four years in high school."

"Hey!" Alison chirped nibbling on a muffin. When Emily snickered with a mouth full of bacon, Alison elbowed her on her arm, "Hello, girlfriend, say something."

After swallowing, Emily nodded at Spencer with a serious look and said, "Spencer. Feel free to bring up Alison's past bitchiness at any time."

"Hey!" Alison said for the second time.

"So," Hanna spoke up stirring syrup around on her plate, "Does that mean I get to bring up your colorful years at any time, Em?"

"No!" Emily choked on a sip of orange juice and stuttered. "No it does not. Not at all. No, no. No ma'am. Nope."

"Wow," Spencer smiled. "So that's a no?"

While Hanna snickered at Emily's expense, Aria circled around to the beginning of the conversation, "Ali, I think it's your turn to tell your story."

"It really isn't that much of a story. I'm sure one of you," Alison's finger bobbed between Emily and Hanna, "have a better one."

Emily snorted snapping a piece of bacon in two, "Of course we do, but you should share anyway."

"It was my birthday and I got a lap—"

"Oh, the birthday lap dance," Hanna gazed up and sighed. "An oldie but a goodie."

"You like lap dances?" Spencer skeptically eyed the blonde while stabbing a piece of cantaloupe.

"Guys," Emily interrupted. "Ali's story. Shut it."

"Why thanks, babe," Alison smiled stroking a finger across the back of Emily's hand resting on the table.

"You're quite welcome," Emily grinned.

"Gross," Hanna gagged at small sign of the affection. She wasn't accustomed to Emily indulging in cute glances and touches, especially not with Alison DiLaurentis. For two years, Emily's definition of affection was eye sex which almost immediately led to actual sex. She groaned inwardly in distaste remembering that Alison was fresh out of a relationship with one of her friends. _Emily sure can pick 'em._

Alison continued, "It was a birthday lap dance, but it was horrible. Just really, really, _really_ bad."

"Did she make too much eye contact or have weird boobs?" Emily queried sipping her juice. "I've seen some seriously weird boobs at strip clubs."

"And she's seen weird boobs _not _in strip clubs," Hanna added.

"Moving on," Emily snipped glaring at her friend.

Aria shook her head and emphasized, "It was just bad. Like how the hell did that girl get hired? She was talking _way_ too much."

"Way, way too much," Alison agreed. "And she kept doing this thing that was… just not right."

"Duncan doesn't give the best birthday gifts," Aria laughed picking at a muffin.

Spencer added blowing cold air against the steaming coffee in her cup, "I was there when he apologized the next day. Apparently, he asked for a different girl, but she had just gotten off the clock so they sent out someone else."

"He couldn't send her away without being rude," Aria said.

"So I sat there awkwardly for three and a half minutes talking to this girl grinding on my lap, if you can call it grinding," Alison shuddered popping a grape into her mouth.

"I'm actually disappointed that I didn't get to witness that," Spencer noted.

Hanna said leaning forward with her elbow on the table, "Well, Alison, when we take Spencer to a strip—"

"_If_ we take Spencer," the other blonde corrected.

With a smirk, Hanna said, "I'm sorry, _when_," she stressed her original word, "we take Spencer to a strip club, we can get you a proper lap dance."

"Yeah," Emily shook her head while somehow managing to eat bacon and drink orange juice at the same time, "there's no way in hell that's happening."

Smiling, Alison replied, "Don't worry, I'd rather you give me a lap dance."

"That is the last thing you want Emily to do," Hanna said shaking her head.

"She's right," Emily agreed. "That's something I've never mastered."

Chuckling to herself, Hanna expounded, "I've seen her practice. It's the weirdest shit I've ever seen. Legs and arms just go everywhere. She looks like a wet noodle."

"Who does she practice on?" Alison asked.

"Me," Hanna chirped chewing on her pancake.

"What?" Spencer sputtered in her coffee. "On you? Really?"

Not looking up from her plate, Emily replied shoving a muffin into her mouth, "Just don't ask."

Amused by her girlfriend's discomfort, Alison leaned into her ear and commented, "You really are hungry, but are you sure it was worth turning me down?"

Emily smirked and replied, "You were the one who stopped."

"Hello!" Hanna snapped in Emily and Alison's direction. "It's time for my story."

"Has anyone ever told you that you're extremely rude?" Alison replied.

"Has anyone ever told you that you're a—"

"The story, Han." Emily interrupted with a warning tone. If she didn't know the real reason Hanna constantly antagonized Alison, she'd drag her off and chew her out. Hanna hated it when Emily lied and right now, she was living in one. Unfortunately, Hanna blamed Alison as much as Emily so she took it out on both of them.

"Thank you," Hanna wiped a splotch of syrup from the corner of her mouth, "I've been to plenty of strip clubs, but my only real story would be when I ended up on stage dancing on a pole."

"Umm no, you were grinding on the pole. There was no dancing happening," Emily said poking at another piece of fruit from the bowl in the center of the table. "It was just you rubbing your vagina on the pole."

"Okay. We're trying to eat here," Spencer commented dropping a bite of pancake back onto her plate.

"Geez, Em," Hanna said. "Don't be so crude."

Alison chuckled and suggested to her girlfriend invading the large bowl of fruit, "You can put some of that on your plate so you're not digging into the main bowl."

"Oh, you're right," the brunette aimed her fork at the fruit on Alison's plate. "I can just have this."

Hanna snapped in the air once again. "It's my turn to talk."

"Oh you mean like it always is?" Alison smirked as she swatted at her girlfriend's fork.

Rolling her eyes, the other blonde said simply, "And it was super hot."

"Agreed," Emily commented still intent on stealing some of her girlfriend's fruit.

"Do we want to know what you were wearing?" Aria asked hesitantly.

"It was very PG-13," Emily clarified, "She just took off her shirt. Well, if PG-13 allows for grinding on poles."

"Emily's story is soooo not PG-13," Hanna stressed clearly eager for Emily to share a particular story.

Emily's phone buzzed in her back pocket. When she slid out the phone, she grunted at the name on her caller id. "Fuck me."

"It's too early for that," Hanna scolded at the sound of the curse word.

"It's Duncan."

Spencer, Aria and Alison froze mid bites, while Hanna urged, "Well pick it up! You've ignored his past two calls. He'll think that something is up."

"Something _is_ up!" Emily replied.

"Well, whose fault is that? Answer it!" Hanna demanded.

Groaning at the truth of her friend's words, Emily pressed the green button on her screen and answered happily, "What up, man?"

Spencer mouthed, "Seriously? 'What up'?" to the rest of the group.

"Are you still out in the woods acting like an idiot?" Emily asked as she pushed back her chair to get up and dart far away from the group of women. Alison pinned her hand to the table and shook her head keeping her from leaving.

Slightly irritated with her girlfriend's insistence, the brunette had to smile broadly to mask the displeasure in her voice, "You said the exact same thing the last fifteen times you've called." She drummed her fingers under Alison's hand on the table very aware of four sets of ears dangling on her every word.

Her eyes bulged at the man's words, "You really don't have to call her that… or that… or that… whoa! 'Cunt' really isn't necessary… No! I'm not trying to defend her but seriously? 'Cunt'?" She shot Alison an apologetic glance. "Yeah when you get back we can totally talk about her." Alison flinched and retracted her hand, "but we can't really do that when you're in the woods. So get your ass back here. You're not a fucking lumberjack."

She propped an elbow on the table and buried her forehead into her palm, "I know. I'd be pissed too, just—" She sighed and complained, "Dude, I can't talk to you when you're wasted. You make more sense when you're high."

She started banging her head into her hand, "Look. Sober up and come back here. Don't be a little bitch." With her gaze fixed on the muffin crumbs on her plate, she couldn't see Alison, Spencer and Aria sharing a look of shock at Emily's harsh words while Hanna laughed into her napkin. "And don't bring any of that alcohol back with you. I don't wanna see that shit and if you drink and drive I'll kill you so many times."

Her head lifted and she tried once again to rise from the table. Alison's hand trapped her again so she cut the conversation short, "Look, I've got to work because some of us don't act like morons and commune with beer and nature when our feelings get hurt." She paused, nodded and replied, "Okay. I'll see you in a few days. What?"

Her face paled and she swallowed, "Yeah. I'm fine." Her voice dropped to almost a whisper, "Hanna was with me. I'm fine." It was the first time Duncan had brought up the anniversary of Maya's death. Although drunk off his ass, he managed to slur words of genuine concern. She felt Alison's fingers wrap tightly around her hand. As Duncan continued to string together words of comfort, the reality of the situation sickened Emily. Her former best friend was drunk because of Alison, whom she'd seen almost naked less than an hour ago. And at the moment, Alison was holding her hand while Duncan did his best to remind Emily that he cared despite his present antics about Alison. "I've gotta go. Remember? Work? Grow up and get your ass back here."

When she hung up, Spencer commented, "Remind me never to call you when I'm dealing with something extremely painful and personal."

As she shoved the phone back into her pocket, Emily shrugged, "We tell it to each other like it is." She tucked her right hand over Alison's knee. She was relieved when her girlfriend quickly gripped her hand reassuringly.

"Like I said," Hanna interrupted trying to spare her friend from any other comments about the phone call, "Emily's story was not PG-13."

Deciding not to pursue the subject of Emily's chat with her ex fiancé, Alison asked, "Do I even want to know?"

"She loves telling this story!" Hanna insisted.

Raising an eyebrow, Emily amended, "Yeah to a group of dudes. Not my—"

"You tell it or I will," Hanna warned playfully.

Emily chucked a grape at her friend and snickered when Hanna flipped her off as it bounced off of her cheek. "Fine," she began, "It was my sophomore year and Hanna, Duncan, three or four other people and I went to Vegas for a few days."

"Uh oh," Spencer commented, "Is this one of those 'what happened in Vegas _should_ have stayed in Vegas' stories?"

"Don't worry," Hanna winked at Alison, "She didn't bring anything back that required antibiotics."

"I need to get you a shock collar or something," Emily said to Hanna before resuming. "So we were all really drunk and standing at the front of the stage hootin' and hollerin'."

"I'm sorry," Spencer held up a hand and interrupted, "Hootin' and hollerin'?"

"That's the best way to describe it," Emily said with a shrug remembering the very loud words of encouragement she and her group of friends had yelled at the women on the stage.

"And we were throwing dollar bills all over the place," Hanna said. "Most of them made it onto the stage."

"Of course, we had to tuck some in their thongs."

"Really?" Spencer's eyebrow shot upward.

"Duh," Hanna replied. "That's the normal thing to do. Some people even pass the bills with their mouths."

Afraid to ask, Alison said while rubbing circles on the back of Emily's hand, "Please don't tell me that you used your mouth."

Glancing over at her grimacing girlfriend, Emily replied, "Okay… I won't tell you."

"Oh, if you think that's bad," Hanna pointed her fork at the other blonde.

"So, my friends and I must have been way too into it because next thing I know, I'm getting pulled up on stage with two other girls and two strippers laid us down in a row."

"I do not like where this is going," Alison shook her head.

"Oh, you have _no_ idea," Hanna stressed thoroughly enjoying Alison's discomfort. She could think of dozens of other stories that would make the woman's head spin.

"Han. I'm telling the story," Emily said taking a bite of a muffin. "So they started crawling on top of us one by one and pulled up our shirts." She slid her hand free from Alison's grip and started walking her fingers up and down her thigh.

"Like up to your neck with your bra showing?" Aria asked throughly engaged by her new friend's story.

Hanna giggled, "Umm no."

"They pulled up our bras too," Emily added before gulping down a sip of her juice.

"Wow," Spencer deadpanned. "I think I'm going to be saying that word a lot around you."

Enjoying the attention of Emily's fingers, Alison asked, "So you were on the stage topless in front of how many people?"

Before Emily could respond, Hanna replied, "This is Vegas we're talking about and it was a very, very busy Friday night slash Saturday morning." As Emily thumped her fork on her plate, her blonde friend continued, "You could barely move in there."

"Then, Hanna threw some dollar bills on top of me and one of the strippers who was kinda hot—"

"Super hot," Hanna corrected.

"According to vodka goggles," Emily clarified, "The chick stuck a dollar bill in my mouth and—"

"And the super hot stripper pulled it out with her mouth, spit it to the side and they totally started making out right there on the stage." Hanna plopped down her fork with the biggest smile on her face seemingly filled with pride at her friend's escapade.

Shaking her head, Emily continued, "But then I got tossed out by a bouncer because I kinda started touching places that I shouldn't. Apparently, she could touch my boobs but I couldn't touch hers."

"It was epic," Hanna concluded eyeing Alison.

Unsure how to respond, Alison asked, "So you made out with a stripper half naked in front of a packed strip club?"

"Hell yeah she did," Hanna replied with a smirk before she added, "She didn't take the girl home or anything. Not _that_ girl."

"Wow," Spencer said.

"I seriously am never taking you out in public," Emily groaned at Hanna's comment tossing another grape at her over-sharing friend. She continued, "We also got busted for fake ids, but it was so worth it."

Shaking her head in a weird type of awe, Aria said, "You were right. None of our stories could ever touch that one."

"So," Alison said, "That was your right of passage as a human being?"

Counting on her fingers, Emily replied, "No, that was actually my fifth right of passage."

"Wow," Spencer shook her head and chuckled. "Again I need to use that word."

"I don't know how we afforded it," Hanna took a sip of her juice before continuing, "Em didn't have a shit ton of money until—"

"Hey Han!" Emily interrupted shaking her head desperately trying to shut her up. Her right hand now snapped onto her own thigh as she tapped her pointer finger nervously.

"What? Alison knows about the car, right? The one you sold for that charity thing?" Hanna glared at Alison and said sarcastically, "Thanks for charming her into doing that, by the way. I used that car to impress clients."

"Yeah, I know about that," Alison agreed grateful for the segue into how exactly Emily had the car in the first place. "I was kind of shocked that you owned a car like that considering the size of your house."

"What size is that?" Emily asked.

"Stupid small," Hanna replied.

"Shut up, Han," Emily rolled her eyes.

"I still can't believe you got rid of it," Hanna complained, "that car was totally the best engagement gift ever. I mean—"

"Hanna!" Emily blurted. Alison paused before shoving a strawberry into her mouth with her fork as her eyes whipped toward her girlfriend.

"What?" Hanna shrugged. "Oh shit." She hung her head at the sight of Alison's stunned look. "You didn't tell her that part."

"I surely did not," Emily snipped.

Alison dropped her fork and asked, "That Porsche was Maya's engagement gift? A hundred thousand dollar car?"

"It was more than—"

"Hanna!" Emily snapped. Calming herself, she explained as nonchalantly as possible, "Maya was loaded, like really loaded. I joked one time that I wanted a Porsche as an engagement gift and…" she gulped unable to read Alison's look. "She made that happen."

"I'm sorry," Spencer replied with eyes narrowed in confusion. "I'm having trouble wrapping my mind around this."

Slowly, Hanna replied, "Maya had money. Maya loved Emily. Maya bought Emily nice things. Maya—"

"She doesn't have a verbal comprehension problem," Emily corrected her friend and continued, "She bought the car outright a month before she…" the brunette cleared her throat. "She was super paranoid about her family being able to take things so she made sure to write the car into her will."

"She had a will?" Spencer asked.

"If you knew her crazy family, you'd understand. She had one since she was eighteen," Hanna clarified. "That will was really, really specific."

"And we're not getting into that," Emily glared at her friend.

"So," Alison replied hesitantly, "You've had the car this whole time?"

"What was I supposed to do with it?" Emily answered the question with a question. She couldn't read anything in Alison's face other than confusion, but she was willing to bet she was pissed that she was finding this out from Hanna.

"It's the same as the ring conundrum," Hanna offered before she scoffed, "It was such a waste. She never even drove the car. She just let me borrow it occasionally."

"So Maya is the 'relative' who gave you the car?" Alison raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah…" Emily admitted reluctantly. She'd deliberately delayed this conversation after their decision to move a little slower in their relationship. Leave it to Hanna to blurt out a secret.

"She had a lot of money?" Alison pried.

Before she answered, Emily knew where this was headed and she sighed, "Yes."

"What happened to her money after she…?"

All of a sudden, Emily really wished she had just torn off Alison's clothes at her house. Now that she thought about it, she was tempted to drag Alison into Spencer's house right now and drown out this conversation with much more appealing sounds.

The blonde must have noticed Emily's eyes beginning to wander to her chest and she interrupted her girlfriend's inappropriately wandering thoughts, "What happened to it?"

Shaking off her ill timed blaze of desire, Emily placed her hand over Alison's on the table top and said quietly, "Let's not do this now."

"Should I just wait and find out from Hanna?"

"No," Emily brushed a finger against her girlfriend's chin. "That's the last thing you'll be hearing from her." Emily hoped to ease the tension as she leaned in to peck the blonde on the lips.

"What's going on here?" a male voice asked.

Emily's head whipped to the man standing beside Spencer. It was Toby. _Fucking shit_. She scolded herself for being idiotic enough to assume that one of Duncan's friends wouldn't stumble upon her and Alison. The fruit, bacon and muffins turned against her and groaned in her stomach. Toby wore a look of surprise, confusion and judgement. Before she could think, she jumped to her feet and asked, "Toby, can I talk to you?" She nodded toward Spencer's spacious yard. "Like far away from this table?"

Alison's fingers wrapped around her wrist as she said, "Let me come with you."

"No," Emily refused abruptly as she shook off the blonde's hand. "Just stay here." It wasn't Alison who needed to explain herself. Alison wasn't the one talking to Duncan almost everyday and lying through her teeth. Emily was absolutely disgusted with herself and she needed to be sure that Toby wouldn't be the one to tell Duncan the truth.

As she and Toby trudged across the lawn, he asked, "Are you going to tell me that it's not what it looks like?"

Swallowing her guilt and disappointment with herself, Emily said, "Nope. It's exactly what it looks like."

* * *

**I do love the PLL5!**

**Also, Em is in trouble. Whoops.**


	14. Chapter 14

**I'm so glad that y'all liked the last chapter! I loved reading the mixed reactions. That means I'm doing something right :)**

**Thank you all so, so much for the reviews. I write because I love the characters and their little world and I'm glad you love them too.**

**I figure I owe you guys a quick update after the dry spell before the last chapter and the cliffhanger. Confrontations are the most fun to write, so I got it done fast just for you guys :)**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

"Please don't tell Duncan," Emily pleaded while wringing her hands. She deliberately faced away from the table of women to conceal as much of her desperation as possible.

With his arms tucked tightly across his chest, Toby asked with surprise, "You haven't told him? How long has this been going on between the two of you?"

"That doesn't matter," Emily sighed shaking her head. She wouldn't dream of admitting to him that she had wanted Alison since she spotted her at a meeting a few months ago. From Alison's interactions with acquaintances in AA, Emily realized that the blonde had shed her needlessly bitchy attitude and her addiction to cutting people down for her own amusement. The Alison she saw squirming in her chair when someone shared an experience that hit too close to home was the Alison that Emily had crushed on in high school and the woman she was falling for now.

"Of course it matters," Toby countered. "Did she cheat on him with you?"

"No way! She wouldn't do that to him," Emily quickly defended her girlfriend before she added, "And neither would I."

Skeptically, the man pried, "But now you're dating her and he has no idea? Isn't he your friend?" He scratched at his beardless chin and recalled, "He's called me a couple of times and mentioned that he's talked to you about the breakup."

Emily paced as she scoffed at her own deception, "Yeah. I have. I've talked to him about his ex fiancé whom I am currently dating." She roughly massaged her temples with her fingers, "This breaks multiple rules of the bro code, but—"

"Did you just say 'bro code'?" a hint of a smile tugged at the corner of Toby's mouth at the absurdity of the reference.

"Yeah. A couple of rules, but mostly the dating exes guidelines." She shot him a look that could only be interpreted as a shock at his ignorance of or disrespect for the bro code. "You can only sleep with or date someone the other bro has slept with or dated if there are no residual feelings." She threw back her head and groaned, "God. We wouldn't have this problem if he was gay."

"Or if you were straight."

"Eww no," Emily wagged her head. "Girls are fucking awesome. I mean, c'mon," she raised an eyebrow. "Boobs."

Although Toby chuckled at her levity, he pointed out, "You definitely broke that rule."

Not wishing to dwell on the indiscretion that haunted her everyday, she begged, "Just please don't tell him. I need to do it… or Alison does… or both of us do."

"You realize that you're asking me to lie to him—to my friend?"

"Yes," she gritted her teeth at the situation seeming to spin out of control, "He just really needs to hear this from me or Alison."

The man asked, "Are you going to tell him soon?"

"As soon as he gets back from his drunken hibernation." She snorted as she reminded him, "You can't hide anything in Rosewood."

He conceded with a sigh, "Fine. I won't say anything." When Emily smiled thankfully, he commented, "He really loves her, you know."

She shook off his words with a grimace, "No offense, but we don't know each other well enough for you to guilt trip me about this. I'm doing a fantastic job of that all by myself." Instead of poking holes in Emily's self righteous claim, Toby remained silent and Emily asked, "Spencer never told you about Alison and I?"

"She's good at keeping secrets," he informed flatly. "The high school version of your girlfriend is responsible for that."

"Emily!" Alison called out from over her shoulder in an unmistakably irritated tone.

"Christ," Emily grumbled as Toby tucked his hands in the front pockets of his jeans and skulked away clearly wanting to put as much distance between himself and the impending lovers' quarrel.

"Come on," Alison growled as she stormed past her girlfriend and her fingers latched onto Emily's right wrist. She dragged her to a back corner of the yard with a small dark stained wooden bench surrounded by a manicured flowerbed and shaded by a canopy of two wide trees.

When the blonde released Emily from her clutches, Emily collapsed onto the bench with her head in her hands and grumbled, "God. I can't believe Toby saw us. I'm so fucked."

Standing a few yards away from the sulking woman, Alison snorted with disdain, "Yeah. You _really_ are."

Emily raised her head and asked, "What the hell is wrong with you?"

The blonde's eyes widened and she thrust a finger into her own chest as she blurted, "What's wrong with _me_?!" She shook her head in disbelief, crossed her arms and shouted as her polished fingernails dug into her arms. "I just found out that you've been talking to Duncan and listening to him say god knows what about me. And—" her voice screeched when Emily tried to interrupt, "you lied about your car. Also, Hanna is being a complete bitch to me. I can take a fucking joke, but you should have heard her when you left. She was counting the number of blonde 'Alison's that you've slept with."

"That's purely coincidental! And I don't even know the answer to that. It can't be more than two or—"

"_Then_," Alison again shouted over Emily, "You told me to 'just stay here' like I'm your child."

Without a hint of remorse, Emily tossed up a hand and replied, "Umm. I don't know where you want me to start."

"Don't worry," Alison sneered as she paced with the heels of her nude colored shoes digging into the lawn, "We'll get around to all of it."

"Well," the brunette disagreed with one of Alison's claims. "I didn't technically lie about the—"

"Don't you dare!"

"Dare what?" Emily asked returning her girlfriend's hostile look.

"Get all dodgy and use the word 'technically'."

The brunette snorted in frustration, "You're accusing me of lying." She tapped her fingers as she counted the grievances, "reminding me of how shitty I am to Duncan, blaming me for Hanna being a bitch and—"

"Who said I care about how shitty you are to Duncan?" Alison threw up her hands.

"Well then let's talk about how you don't care—"

The blonde jerked her hands flat in front of her chest stopping her girlfriend, "Don't get off on a tangent and throw this back at me."

Emily jumped to her feet and yelled, "I'm pissed right now! There's going to be a lot of tangents!"

Neither of the women advanced but Alison ordered, "You can't act like this."

Emily stomped a few paces away from the bench and the blonde as she asked, "Are you just going to tell me what to do this whole time?"

Exasperated, Alison replied to Emily's back, "A whole lot of shit just happened in the past few minutes and all you're doing is getting defensive and insisting that you're pissed. I'm furious, but you're dealing with a shit ton of other things."

The brunette didn't turn around as she retorted, "Yeah, a shit ton of being pissed."

"God!" Alison grunted. "I'm not one of those strippers or whoever that you can take home and then blow off."

Emily whirled around at the disturbing claim and replied, "Alison. Why would you think that? Have I made you think that?"

Barely affected by her girlfriend's concern, the blonde blustered with crossed arms, "You can't ignore all of your bullshit until I'm out of your house or you're alone or with Hanna. You're bottling up your feelings and expecting me to believe that you're just pissed." When Emily's head drooped, Alison's voice lost its razor sharp edge, "I'm not going to pry everything out of you especially when I'm too angry to think."

Emily's right hand clawed at the back of her neck. Of course Alison was right. Being angry was the perfect deflection when she didn't want to deal with the actual issue. After a long sigh, her hand fell to her side and she admitted that first thing that came to mind, "Fine. I'm irritated with Hanna."

Alison agreed, "That makes two of us."

"She's always snarky, but she's gone beyond that. She's so used to protecting me from every little thing that might upset me." She admitted with a shrug, "She's sometimes a bitch about it."

Confused by Emily's explanation, Alison asked, "What does that have to do with me? Is she protecting you from me?"

"From us," Emily clarified inching toward her girlfriend as if she might frighten off a bird, "From the whole situation. She's probably trying to tell a raunchy enough story or reveal some stupid secret that will make you run for the hills. This isn't the first time that she's done it."

Nodding in understanding, the blonde added, "Then you won't have to tell Duncan about us because there won't be an us."

Now only a few feet away, Emily concluded, "And I won't have to deal with hurting him. I don't do well with that—hurting people."

Finally acknowledging her girlfriend's proximity, Alison dropped her arms and her guard and said, "Em, she's not protecting you anymore. She's making you out to be a heartless serial seducer while she's being a complete asshole to me. Like I said, I can take a joke, but this is…" She instinctively flinched when Emily extended a hand to comfort her and jumped backward. "You're letting her do it."

Emily gulped at the rejection and clasped her hands together awkwardly, "I know, but she's telling you the truth. I did everything she said and I'm not ashamed of anything I've done in the past."

"You shouldn't be," the blonde hurriedly replied not wanting Emily to think she disapproved in any way, "but she's trying to use it against us. You just admitted that."

"I'm sorry," Emily hung her head. "I really am."

"I know," Alison answered quietly and lightly grazed Emily's clenched hands.

Relieved the brunette looked up, "I'll talk to her."

When she tried to grab Alison by the fingers to pull her close, Alison once again recoiled. Hanna's attitude was the least of their worries and the sudden reminder plunged her right back into the irritation that had momentarily subsided. "No. We're far from done."

As Alison retreated a few steps, Emily huffed, "Besides pissed, what are _you_ feeling?"

Perturbed by what she interpreted to be Emily deflecting, Alison snipped, "Like you need to tell me what you're feeling.

The brunette closed her eyes to conceal her eye roll before she trudged back to the bench and sank down onto the wood in defeat. They were right back where they started, Emily on defense and Alison on offense. She offered reluctantly, "I feel guilty."

"I can't imagine why." Alison responded sarcastically.

Instead of snapping at her girlfriend's tone, Emily said blandly, "Duncan has called me many, many times whining about your breakup."

"Really, Em? 'Whining'? That's how you'd describe it?," Alison barked at the flippant choice of word.

Joining in on the passive aggressiveness, Emily said, "I can't use 'whining'? Should I use balling his eyes out or drinking himself into a stupor because he's hurt?"

"What does he say?" Alison snarled.

"It's not worth repeating," the brunette waved off the inquiry.

The blonde cackled with sarcasm at the response, "So you're telling me that on multiple occasions you've listened to my ex fiancé say things that are 'not worth repeating' about me—your girlfriend?"

Emily threw back, "I'm not going to cut him off and say 'excuse me dude, that's my girlfriend so I'm gonna to need you to use nicer words. Thanks, man. I appreciate it.'."

Completely befuddled by Emily's rejection of what Alison deemed the most obvious course of action, Alison shouted, "That's exactly what you should say!"

"I can't tell him that over the phone!"

"Then don't pick up the phone!" Alison screeched flabbergasted at Emily's dangerously callous responses.

"I owe him!" Emily insisted as she slammed her hands onto her thighs. "I fucked him over when Maya died. I can't watch him spiral like I did."

"Well, I can't deal with knowing that he's bashing me and you're just listening!" Alison yelled wondering how Emily could be so oblivious to her feelings.

"It's not like I agree with anything he says. I just have to suck it up!" the brunette countered now gripping the edge of the bench to keep from flying off of it in a rage. "He's just angry. I've heard way worse things thrown at me." In the past, she had been smothered by harsh and debilitating actions that spurred on her alcoholism. When she was attacked without the comfort of alcohol, she'd learned to shrug off verbal harassment. Most of the time, she treated words as just sounds leaving the mouth, which made her immune to certain insults being tossed at herself and other people, in this case, Alison.

"So you're okay with him saying those things about me?"

"No, but he's just blowing off steam."

"It doesn't matter!" the blonde's hand shot upward in irritation glaring at her stubborn and seemingly insensitive girlfriend.

"I need to be there for him!"

"Well, you can't," Alison's words crashed to the ground infuriating Emily even more. "You seriously think you can be with me while you lie to him, not tell me about talking to him, and let him vent about how much of a cunt that I am? I would _never_ let anyone say that about you."

"Is that an ultimatum?" Emily challenged boldly.

Shocked by Emily's interpretation and blatant refusal to actively listen instead of passively hearing her, Alison said, "No! Is that what it sounds like to you?"

Emily shrugged, "It sounds like you're telling me _once again_ what to do."

"I'm just telling you the truth that you clearly don't want to hear."

"Why weren't you this mad about it when I got off the phone with him?" Emily snapped. "What the hell changed?"

Alison snorted as she rolled her eyes, "Because I try to avoid making scenes at tables. Do you want me to make scenes at tables? Or would you like me to just ignore everything that's happening?" Her hands pumped in front of her chest as she yelled, "What do you want from me?"

"I'm fucking up everything!" Emily finally lost it and admitted with frustration, disappointment and misplaced hope. "I just want everyone to be fucking happy! I want to be happy! Why is this so goddamn hard?" She raked her hands through her hair, "I just want to be forgiven, for this shit with Duncan and for ripping Maya out of this world."

Alison flinched at the last comment wondering who Emily specifically needed forgiveness from because of Maya. Emily swallowed before continuing, "I want us to fall in love like normal ass people without alcoholism and death and cars and complicated ex situations." The blonde sank down onto Emily's left as she concluded, "You and I can be happy and Duncan can… I don't want to hurt anyone. I've done enough of that."

Not bothered by the sudden disappearance of her anger, the blonde brushed Emily's hair over her shoulder to reveal the conflicted woman's face, "I had no idea that you're big on happy endings."

Still upset, the brunette kept her gaze forward and said, "Neither did I." She settled her hand on Alison's right thigh. "It must be you."

While her hand tucked over Emily's, the blonde asked wanting to completely clear the air, "The car?"

Shaking her head, Emily glanced up, "I didn't mean to lie to you about that. I don't go around admitting that I have my dead almost-fiancé's engagement gift sitting in my garage."

Hesitantly, Alison prompted, "The money."

Emily flung her arms across her chest and refused, "I've said enough. We're not going there."

"Yes we are," the blonde insisted quietly but firmly. The deception had to stop.

"How do you want this thing to go between us, Ali?" Emily shrugged. "Simple and slow like a regular relationship? Or complicated and dramatic—"

"And honest!" the blonde clamped her hands onto Emily's cheeks and begged, "Just be honest with me. You don't have to hide behind—"

"Behind what?" Emily yanked Alison's hands away, "My sarcasm? My borderline bitchiness? My stupid stories? This isn't a facade, Alison; it's who I am."

Alison gripped both of the brunette's hands and stressed, "You're scared, Emily!" When Emily's pupils dilated at what sounded like an accusation, the blonde stammered quickly, "And that's okay. This whole thing scares me shitless sometimes." The brunette relaxed and Alison continued, "Em, I love your sarcasm, bitchiness, stupid stories, all of your damn comic books and the beautiful vulnerable side of you."

When Emily tried to drop her head, Alison coaxed, "No, look at me." With a great deal of effort, Emily locked her eyes onto Alison's. "I wouldn't change anything about you. You're hiding behind a pile of half truths because you're scared." Emily nervously held her breath as Alison stroked her cheek, "You are absolutely terrified that you'll fall in love with me, I'll find out all of your secrets too soon and I'll freak out and leave you." Finally exhaling, Emily forced herself to sit still as her girlfriend unmasked her, "You acted so confident when you convinced me to give us a try and you probably were at the time. Now you're just desperately trying to control what I can and can't know about you."

Emily couldn't remember the last time she felt this exposed. The sight of Alison's eyes in front of her and the feeling of a hand on her cheek didn't even register as a swarm of inner dialogue washed over her. This rattled her even more than crying in Alison's arms and recounting the painful memory of Maya's death. Alison had finally put her finger on Emily's most guarded asset. Although Emily had torn down her emotional walls and began dealing with her guilt about Maya, she still latched onto a tiny thread of control. She'd carefully concocted ways to conceal things about herself until she deemed Alison "ready to know". She could fall for Alison and Alison could fall for her, but her secrets could only be divulged when she felt confident that Alison wouldn't judge her or run away screaming. She cringed thinking of a particular situation Alison knew nothing about. The ring, the car, the money… they didn't even come close. She shuddered remembering that she almost told Alison the night Hanna stormed into her house demanding to know about Jeremy's phone call.

Instead of dwelling on a fact in her life that terrified her the most, she mused, "I just want to go on dates, watch bad movies on the couch, throw popcorn in your face and only argue about whether cats are better than dogs or whether Superman is better than Batman or whether chocolate ice cream is better than strawberry."

With a tiny smile, Alison replied as her hands returned to Emily's, "I can answer those really fast: dogs, I don't care, and chocolate." When Emily chuckled, Alison played with Emily's fingers and said slowly, "I want that for us too, but I can't do this if you keep hiding and lying to me." She swallowed, "So please stop, because I _need_ this to work."

"Ali, don't," Emily quickly replied hoping to quell the doubt in her girlfriend's mind. While this was exactly what she feared—losing Alison—she never thought it would be her deceitfulness crafted with good intentions that threatened their relationship. "You never have to beg me to make this work." She stared at the adorable dimple on the blonde's chin before her gaze flitted upward to questioning blue eyes. "You're right. I'm scared." She sighed, "but I'll tell you about the money."

She tucked her arm behind Alison's head and draped her hand over her left shoulder. "Come here," she mumbled shifting Alison's hips and pulling the blonde against her with Alison's head settled a little below her shoulder and her arms wrapped tightly around Alison's torso.

The blonde couldn't help but chuckle as she commented on the position, "I feel like you're about to tell me a story."

Alison caressed Emily's fingers while Emily kissed the top of her head and answered, "I'll be sure to tell you one next time, one that doesn't end in me half naked in a strip club."

"Go ahead," the blonde prompted pecking Emily on the arm. Feeling Alison relaxing into her sent a beautifully reassuring tingling sensation ricocheting inside Emily's chest, up and down her arms and legs and bursting with warmth into her cheeks.

Before she could decide on a specific way to order the facts, Emily began, "Maya left me everything that she had. She locked up half of it in a living trust, a little in liquid assets and the rest of it in stocks. She was big on investing." Emily smiled as Alison hugged her arms tighter across her chest. She couldn't possibly explain the sense of safety blanketing her in those moments. Although the explanation of Maya's money might not unsettle Alison or anyone else, it was one of the most uncomfortable things for Emily to talk about. Her guilt compounded just thinking about it. "It was old family money from her grandparents that she received when she turned eighteen. At that point, she and her parents had a major falling out because they are fucking nuts so she went through a ton of legal bullshit to make sure they couldn't ever get to it."

As Emily spoke, Alison sighed in her arms, just sighed. Not with shock or anger, but just passively sighed. Randomly, Emily realized how much she missed cuddling. Other than the multitude of pleasurable sensations during sex, this might be one of her favorite feelings. "She didn't spend that much in college. Honestly, she spent most of it on me, well us, and alcohol." Emily gulped as she dove into details, "Like Hanna said, her will for everything not in the trust was specific on a few points. She obviously made it assuming she and I would be together. Her lawyer said she amended it a couple of weeks before she died." She cleared her throat, "It's not worth going into what she set aside in the trust versus her instructions in the will so first off, any money I owed in student loans or any kind of debt disappeared. Poof!" she snapped two fingers, "Gone, just like that. Then there was money for two years worth of rent for any apartment, or mortgage on a house or wherever I might have been living when she died.

"And I shit you not she had money specifically for comic books. She always joked she'd buy me the most expensive one I could find." She chuckled playing with her girlfriend's fingers, "She also set aside a crap ton of money for a donation to an art gallery in Philly. She knew I hated art. I'm sure she laughed hysterically when she had that written into her will." She plunged forward before she realized what she was going to say next, "The living trust focused mostly on kids—money for private schools, music camps, sports camps, cars, vacations overseas, college tuitions—shit." She shook her head, "I can't go into this."

Alison pushed out of Emily's embrace, turned and assured her, "Em, you don't have to say anymore."

In a tone of disgust, Emily blurted, "3.6 million dollars. She left me 3.6 million dollars with it multiplying everyday because of all the investments." She scoffed at the insanity, "She died in a car accident that was basically my fault and I got 3.6 million dollars. I mean seriously… what the hell? How is that possible?"

"Emily…" the blonde hated seeing the guilt in Emily's eyes and hearing her blame herself.

"What did I do with it?" the brunette continued with a sarcastic laugh, "I paid off the loans, got an apartment and threw money at the art gallery, just like she wanted and _then_," repulsed by her past actions, Emily snorted, "I took a fucking trip to Paris and dicked around for two months. It's hilarious that I'm giving Duncan shit for doing the same damn thing." She didn't feel the need to mention that her vacation was fraught with many 'romantic' encounters. "Then I bought a bunch of comic books and tried to drink myself to death."

"Babe," Alison quickly replied, "You were grieving. I probably would have done the same thing."

"At least I didn't spend even a fraction of it or fuck with any of the investments. Do you know how hard it is to spend that much money if you're not buying yachts or planes or mansions?"

"Emily, stop," Alison turned and tossed her leg over Emily's knees. When she settled into the brunette's lap, she tipped up the woman's chin and whispered, "Please don't do this to yourself." As both hands slid underneath Emily's hair to the back of her head, she leaned in and tried to flood her kiss with reassurance and love, or something akin to love. Urgently needing what Alison offered, Emily sighed into her girlfriend's mouth as all ten fingers clutched onto the back of Alison's dress.

Sensing her girlfriend's desperation, Alison allowed Emily's lips and tongue to search every centimeter of her lips and mouth. After a couple minutes of faint moans with their fervent kisses, the brunette's grip relaxed and her fingers gently massaged Alison's spine rather than clinging to her for dear life.

When the brunette's lips wandered down to Alison's chin, the blonde said, "This was supposed to be me being mad at you."

Knowing she owed Alison far more than what she'd already said, Emily whispered, "I shouldn't let Duncan say those things." She kissed her way up her jaw to Alison's right ear, "I'm so sorry." She pressed her lips on the blonde's forehead, "I've just had to ignore a lot of shitty things people have said in the past two years, but you're not me. I can't ignore what people say about you."

When Emily tapped her lips against Alison's nose, the blonde said, "It's oka—"

The brunette leaned back shaking her head, "No, it's not. You know it's not."

Alison responded with a smile and pulled Emily's face back to hers. It hurt knowing Emily didn't defend her against Duncan and even attempted to justify her inaction when they argued a few minutes ago. However, she knew what sincerity looked and felt like. Emily's slow, deliberate kiss left no room for doubt. This beautiful brunette was completely out of her element and tripped over every obstacle they came upon, but she continually jumped to her feet, dusted herself off and moved forward.

When their lips parted for air, Emily muttered, "You are none of the things that he said. I know that." She begged her with their lips brushing against each other, "Please forgive me?"

Alison wasn't an idiot. Based on their disagreements so far, this relationship would be far from easy, but she'd never been so sure of anything in her life. "Since you're asking so nicely… yes." Pleased with the answer, Emily trailed down Alison's neck as the blonde craned her neck backward.

Aside from the occasional sharp inhale from Alison when teeth scraped against the skin on her neck or shoulder, Alison sat silently in her girlfriend's arms. Emily apologized for every unkind word and thanked the blonde for her understanding with the undivided and intimate attention to the blonde's shoulders, neck and face. When she finally stopped and rested her forehead against Alison's, the blonde asked, "Do you feel better?"

"Do you?" Emily asked more seriously.

"I do now."

"Em, we need to talk!" a peeved Hanna demanded standing only a few feet away from the couple.

The brunette grumbled and replied, "Han, now isn't—"

"No!" Alison wriggled off of Emily's lap, hopped to her feet and stared down Emily's determined friend, "You and I need to talk."

"Bitch got claws," Hanna smirked.

"Hanna, stop," Emily chided. "Don't—"

"I've got this," Alison interrupted crossing her arms. After clearing her throat, she said wearing the tiny sarcastic smile that used to grace her face everyday in high school, "Look. I don't mind if you're snarky with me. I need that in my life." Her left hand jutted out from her overlapped arms as she pointed and demanded. "But you need to back the fuck off. You were the one who called me over to Emily's house the night that she broke down. You were the one who warned me about her triggers. You don't get to parade her past in front of me and expect me to run. None of that shit scares me and you sure as hell don't scare me."

Hanna advanced with an accusatory finger flung forward, "You're the reason she's lying to Duncan! Do you know how much that kills her?! You don't know her like I do. Just because her confidence and sarcasm isn't an act doesn't change the fact that she's one of the most caring people I've ever met. She's kind and sweet and fucking breakable." The blonde actually had to choke back a hint of tears. Just like Emily, she often covered her vulnerabilities with anger and bitchiness.

Sensing the emotional tension, Alison lowered her voice, "I'm trying to understand her and we're going to deal with all of this."

Hanna crossed her arms and shrugged, "Would you even believe me if I said that I'm trying to protect you too. Em isn't strong like you, Alison. She falls right back into the bottle if she freaks out enough and I'm not there to stop her." Emily cringed but didn't interrupt. "You're an alcoholic and sobriety isn't a joke. You shouldn't have to deal with Emily's…"

"I believe you," Alison admitted. "But you should have just told me instead of making me think that Emily is going to fuck anyone she thinks is shiny."

Hanna shook her head and replied confidently, "No way. She wouldn't do that to you. She never would."

After a long pause, Emily spoke up thinking the aggression had subsided, "Are you two friends now?"

Smirking, Hanna said, "I like someone who is brave enough to scream in my face."

Alison cocked an eyebrow and pointed out, "I see that happening a lot in our future."

"Fine," Hanna swung out an open hand, "Truce?"

Shaking the extended hand, the other blonde said, "A shaky one."

Satisfied, Hanna backed away and informed, "Oh, but I will be bringing up more of Emily's adventures. They're too good not to share. Someone should seriously write a book: 'The Exploits of a Brunette Alcoholic'."

"I should be really insulted by that," Emily stood up chuckling.

"I'm up for more stories," Alison smiled as Emily's fingers intertwined with hers.

"Great," the brunette complained kicking at the grass, "Sounds super fun for me."

Before turning around to return to the table, Hanna mentioned as the two women lingered by the bench, "Em. I know you're still hungry. You practically threw up everything you ate earlier."

"Go away," Emily urged wanting to say one more thing to her girlfriend. "I won't talk to Duncan again until he gets back to Rosewood. It's a messed up thing for me to do. I need to tell him."

Smiling, Alison draped her arms over Emily's shoulders and replied, "We'll tell him together."

"Okay," Emily said in that sweet tone she rarely used.

"Em?"

"Ali?"

"Nothing that you said changes anything. There's no drama. We're still normal."

Grateful, Emily pecked her girlfriend on the lips before glancing over Alison's shoulder. "I think I owe you." She pulled Alison's arms from around her neck, grabbed the blonde by the waist and shifted Alison to stand between her and the table of women enjoying their food.

"Why are you hiding?" Alison chuckled acknowledging her shield status.

With a devious smile, Emily grabbed her girlfriend's hands and slid them under her own shirt. Alison playfully flicked the barbell on Emily's navel as Emily slowly guided the pale hands up her tan body, she explained, "You asked before why I'm a tiny bit more sensitive than you expected."

Both giddy and extremely aroused, Alison warned, "If you're teasing me, I swear to god you'll be waiting much longer that you want to get in my pants."

When their fingers grazed the edge of Emily's bra, the brunette shook her head and assured her skeptical girlfriend, "Oh, I've wanted to see this reaction since you dragged me into that alley." Before Alison peaked her fingertips beneath the underwire, Emily whispered, "If you misuse your newfound power, I'll make you regret it."

A farfetched yet exciting idea flashed through Alison's mind, but she didn't bother to entertain it and instead raised an eyebrow still thinking Emily was just messing with her. When Emily took a dramatically deep breath and dropped her hands, Alison slowly crept underneath the fabric. Emily trembled as fingers neared her nipples and the blonde gasped in shock as each thumb brushed against two tiny metal balls protruding from either side of Emily's nipples. "Oh my god, Emily!" Alison's gaze snapped upward with blue eyes glazed with surprise and lust. "Are these real?"

The rest of Alison's fingers enclosed around the now hard nubs and the brunette winced and shuddered, "I can't believe Hanna managed not to tell you," she gasped and bit her lip as her girlfriend stared at her roaming hands under Emily's shirt. "I lost a bet and it was either this or my tongue."

Thrilled with Emily's decision, Alison said, "Oh, I like this much better." Her thumbs and index fingers scraped across the balls on the ends of the barbells.

"Fucking hell," the brunette moaned. As Alison's touch softened, Emily joked, "You should be glad I'm not wearing dangling pot leaves anymore. Maya was a fan. I prefer something simple and not drug related."

Barely listening to Emily, Alison's mind ran rampant with a slew of ways to coerce Emily into fulfilling any fantasy she could concoct. "How much trouble will I be in if I abuse my power?"

Emily nudged her girlfriend's head upward, "Two weeks of absolutely nothing."

Alison pinched making Emily's other hand dig into Alison's waist, "It might be worth it."

* * *

**Bring on the reactions!**

**One of my reactions while writing... good god Emily has issues, but I still love her.**


	15. Chapter 15

**Greetings!**

**Wow. This ended up being way longer than I anticipated… hence the longer wait. It wasn't supposed to be this long :)**

**Because you guys are so incredibly awesome and encouraging, I'm gonna make sure to thank you guys individually, unless you're a guest. I should have been doing that all along. My bad, guys! So, if you see a PM from me, that is why.**

**Thank you to all the guests!**

* * *

Nearly a week after the brunch at Spencer's, Emily packed both Alison and Spencer into her car without telling them where they were going. She'd only told them to bring bikinis, she told Alison to pick the most revealing one she owned, and that they were going to Philadelphia. Almost the entire trip, Emily's right hand rested contently between Alison's in the blonde's lap. It only emerged once when she flipped off a truck driver. After the "fucking douche bag", as Emily named the unknown driver, cut her off, she wagged her middle finger and yelled obscenities and insults like the driver could hear her. After about thirty seconds of Emily screaming at the driver and Spencer screaming at Emily to "shut up", Alison talked her girlfriend down and kept her from tailgating the truck.

After about ten minutes of driving in the city, Emily turned into an entrance of a high rise building of apartments. As she drove under a covered area, a young man leapt out from behind a small stand and sprinted to the passenger side door. He waved at Emily as he streaked past and yanked open Alison's door. It didn't take more than a few seconds for Alison to deduce that Emily had brought her and her friend to her apartment in Philadelphia.

As Alison stepped out of the car, the boy greeted Emily warmly as she emerged from the driver's side, "Hey there, Ms. Fi—"

"I swear, David," Emily shook her head as she nudged her sunglasses on top of her head. "It's Emily." The brunette pointed to the two passengers, "David, this is my girlfriend, Alison, and Ms. Hastings."

"Cute," Spencer threw back.

As Emily strolled around the front of the car, David asked, "Will you be staying overnight?"

"Nope," she smiled at her girlfriend before elaborating, "We'll only be here for a few hours." Alison sighed contently as Emily pressed her lips to her temple and intertwined their fingers.

"Ralph misses you," David said as he circled around the car. "You wanna drive him instead?"

"Who is Ralph?" Alison asked.

"My other car."

Alison chuckled, "You named your car _Ralph_?"

"You named your _car_?" Spencer's forehead wrinkled at the concept of naming the car in the first place.

"He's a beautiful Mercedes," the brunette shrugged, "He doesn't mind the stupid name." Alison's eyebrows flew upward—_a Mercedes_?

"So do you want him?" David asked again.

Emily tugged her wallet out of her bag, "Only if he's washed, smells nice and has gas." Alison tried not to look at how much money Emily passed across the top of the car, but she easily identified two fifty dollar bills. A week ago, Emily was just a sports therapist living in a small house with a decent car with the most expensive thing she owned being her comic book collection. Now she was passing a boy one hundred bucks to do something she could easily do herself.

"No problem," the boy nodded gratefully. "I'll get him ready."

"Thanks, David," Emily smiled grabbing her girlfriend's hand she had dropped to pay the boy. "There's no rush. Have Charlie let me know when he's ready."

Emily guided Alison and Spencer through a set of double doors and strolled forward while Spencer and Alison drank in their surroundings. With Emily pulling her along, Alison swept the room with high ceilings and streaks of glowing blue light tracing the edges of tall black, wooden beams protruding from the white textured walls. There were a few groups of modern style flat couches along one side of the large room. Their footfalls echoed as they rapped against the light grey tiles decorated with different sized long black lines.

"So. You're not poor are you?" Spencer commented to the oblivious brunette hanging over the edge of the front desk waiting for someone to appear. She thoughtlessly fiddled with Alison's fingers as her eyes darted around searching for a familiar face. The blonde smiled at their linked hands and Emily's newfound obsession with her fingers.

"It's just flashy," Emily threw over her shoulder. "It's not as expensive as you think."

Jokingly, Spencer asked wheeling around staring at the ceiling, "Did you sleep with the property manager?"

Alison cocked her eyebrow when Emily cleared her throat with guilt, "If I did, I didn't get any money knocked off of my rent." As Alison pursed her lips, Emily quickly kissed away the pout and whispered, "You're beautiful." When the blonde smirked, Emily pulled a key on a simple metal key chain out of her pocket and handed it to her girlfriend. "Here's my key. You two can go up and change. I'll be up in a few minutes after I sort out some shit down here."

After Emily gave her a quick kiss and pointed her toward the elevator, Alison chuckled, "Babe?"

"Yeah?"

"Are you going to tell me where your apartment is?"

"Oh yeah!" Emily snapped in recognition of her forgetfulness. "That's important for you to know." She bit her lip as she looked the blonde up and down and commented with an teasingly sultry tone, "I'm just distracted because in my head, you're already in a bikini."

Waiting patiently a few feet away from the couple, Spencer grumbled, "So this is what a third wheel feels like."

"26th floor," Emily clarified. "Go to the right when you get off the elevator and it's three doors down on the end—2606."

Sliding into her girlfriend's chest and wrapping the brunette's arms around her waist, Alison reminded, "Just fyi. You do know that I burn easily right?"

Spencer agreed, "Not all of us have sun deflecting skin."

Emily smiled gently before she spoke. Alison couldn't explain it, but Emily looked at her differently ever since their heated conversation at brunch several days ago. She was still as sarcastic and cocky as usual, but her eyes were softer and she caught glimpses of a vulnerability she'd only seen during her breakdown about Maya and her explosion of honesty at brunch. Strangely, the tenderness seemed to compliment her confident nature rather than clashing with it.

"Don't worry," Emily assured. "You won't be in the sun unless you're in the pool, but you'll need sunscreen."

"Because you want to put it on?" Alison suggested against her girlfriend's lips.

"Maybe…" the brunette whispered with a coy smile before she pinched her girlfriend on the ass and pushed her toward the elevator with a smirk.

* * *

Spencer walked into Emily's apartment ahead of Alison as the blonde struggled to wiggle the key out of the lock. As Alison grunted with frustration, her friend exclaimed, "What the actual fuck?"

Sighing as the key finally slid out of the lock, Alison replied, "I don't think I can handle you dipping into Hanna's vocab—holy shit." Her jaw dropped as the door slammed behind her sending an echo bouncing off the walls and fourteen foot ceiling. As she instinctively locked the door behind her, she gaped at the unnecessarily large room. The outside wall of the living room was made of floor to ceiling glass panels. An empty entertainment center, except for a television, covered the back wall of the living room. The dark hardwood floors were covered with a few large rugs. Everything was sleek and clean with no knick knacks, pictures or any signs of life aside from the furniture.

"Umm yeah," Spencer acknowledged her friend's shock as she marched into the kitchen. She pried offhandedly, "How much money did Maya leave Emily?"

The blonde momentarily regretted passing along parts of Emily's confession to her friends. "None of your business."

Spencer admired the wooden cabinets with glass panels and appliances covered with the same wooden grain which blended them into the rest of the cabinets as she dragged a finger across the grey marble countertops, Spencer said, "Look at this kitchen. Everything is gorgeous."

"Uh huh," Alison muttered as she flicked the leather of the long black sectional framing the living room. A multi-tiered coffee table stood on top of a white and light blue rug.

"This is immaculate," Spencer noted draping herself over the island. "She doesn't strike me as a tidy person." She stood on the tips of her toes and examined the dining room on the other side of the counter. It had a tall rectangular kitchen table and four barstool height chairs with four placemats and an empty decorative vase adorning the top of the table.

"Well, she's not living here," Alison commented peeking out the floor to ceiling window at the tops of buildings. "So she's not around to make a mess."

"Is she renting it out?" Spencer asked skeptically.

"Nope," Alison spun around and trudged to her curious friend. "She told me that it's been empty."

As she pointed through the glass of two cabinets next to the microwave, she said, "Then why are there dishes in here?"

"They're just dishes, Spence," Alison rolled her eyes at the question.

Not convinced, the brunette tugged open the refrigerator, "There's food in here."

"What?" the blonde wondered aloud as she weaved around the island and yanked on the handle of what she assumed to be the pantry. Instead of swinging open, it glided outward revealing several shelves stocked with food.

Spencer offered, "I know it's not a lot of food, but—"

"I know that look," Alison pointed at her friend as she closed the pantry and the refrigerator. "My girlfriend doesn't have a double life." Spencer stomped out of the kitchen and in the direction that could only lead to the master bedroom. "What are you doing, Nancy Drew?"

By the time Alison made it into the bedroom, two drawers of the dresser had been pulled open and Spencer was gesturing into the open closet. "There are clothes in the drawers and the closet." She nodded at a few shirts and pair of pants on the bed. "Is this your definition of empty?"

With a huff, the blonde nudged the drawers closed with her hip and turned toward the bathroom to change into her bikini. Spencer leapt in front of her, flipped on the light and said, "There's stuff in the bathroom too."

"Jesus, Spencer," Alison elbowed her way past her annoyingly insistent friend. "It's her apartment. She probably uses it when she's in town."

"Look, I'm—"

The blonde slammed the bathroom door in Spencer's face. Unlike the rest of the virtually untouched living room, kitchen and dining room, the bedroom and bathroom did look as if they'd been used somewhat recently. Multiple bottles of shaving gel, shampoo, conditioner and shower gel sat in a long shower stall lined with pale stone. There was even a towel, wash rag and body brush hanging from a bar on a side wall of the stall. Although not disgustingly cluttered, the bathroom counter was dotted with the typical hair and body products you'd expect to find in a woman's bathroom.

As she stripped out of her clothes and tied on her bright red stringed bikini, she shrugged off the ridiculous suspicions Spencer had tossed in her face. Although Emily had concealed her expensive lifestyle, that did not in any way equate to hiding an entirely separate life. While they didn't see each other every day, none of Emily's actions hinted at such a blatant deception as a double life. In their relationship, Emily tumbled trying to find her way and Alison struggled with doubt. Emily was fighting tooth and nail to shake off her bad habits and after the brunch, Alison didn't need anymore convincing. They were both scared, but both completely committed.

Then, she saw toothbrushes, two of them. Her frantic, emotional thoughts screamed: two toothbrushes, two people. Her logical side reasoned that plenty of single people owned more than one toothbrush, although Alison wasn't one of them. Two inanimate objects triggered an insecurity that Alison constantly kept buried—Emily's rather active sex life. Although Emily never hinted at a comparison between Alison and all the other women, the blonde's stomach sunk every time she wondered what number she was, or what number she was going to be. It unsettled her even more when she wondered if Emily had no clue what number she would be. Alison hated to dwell on the topic because she didn't think any less of Emily. Unfortunately, she thought less of herself and she couldn't dream up anything that Emily could do to make it better.

Groaning, she pulled on her open knit tunic and stuffed her dress, bra and panties into her bag. When she stepped out of the bathroom and turned off the light, a loud bang on the front door startled her. "Oh!" she quickly realized, "I have her key." She shuffled to the door, unlocked it and swung it open eagerly, "Em—oh hi. You're not Emily," she said to a college age boy standing on her girlfriend's doorstep.

"Hey," the boy pointed to himself, "Charlie. Emily sent me to get you. She's up at the pool."

"Why did she send you?" Alison asked still blocking the door.

He chuckled, "She was finishing up a 'discussion' about a cabana."

"An aggressive discussion?" Spencer queried from over Alison's shoulder.

"_Very_," he emphasized as he peeked behind the blonde and pointed, "Can I come in? She wanted me to grab a bunch of waters and towels for all of you."

As Alison stepped aside and Charlie walked into the kitchen, Spencer asked with crossed arms, "Has Emily been here recently?"

"Spencer!" Alison snipped.

Stacking bottles into one arm, he replied, "I saw her maybe two weeks ago. She could have come here since then." He closed the refrigerator and wandered to a hall closet. "She moved some of her stuff out several weeks ago."

"Was she alone? Two weeks ago?"

"Seriously?" the blonde groaned.

Yanking several towels off of a shelf in the closet, he said, "Yeah. She was. Wait—" he paused dangling towels in the air nodding at Spencer, "Are you…" he added in Alison's direction, "or both of you her umm…"

"No! No!" Spencer answered wagging her head.

"I'm her girlfriend," the blonde corrected. "Alison."

Charlie snorted tossing the towels on top of the water bottles. "Alison? Really?"

"Why is that funny?" Alison asked the amused boy shaking with muffled laughter.

"No reason," he lied and cleared his throat. "Are you two ready?"

Glaring at Spencer, the blonde asked, "Are you done playing detective?"

"For now," the brunette smirked.

Alison rolled her eyes and answered Charlie with a dramatic sweep of her arm, "Lead the way."

* * *

When the elevator opened onto the top floor, Charlie opened a glass door with his back and nodded the two women through the opening. The entire rooftop was lined with cabanas and chairs and the edge was lined with metal rails and glass panels. Two groups of couches sat on either side of the long saltwater pool in the center of the roof.

As Charlie walked them around the edge of the rectangular pool, he noted, "Looks like she successfully frightened off the couple." He piled the towels on the edge of one of three black chaise lounge chairs under a large white cabana.

"She scared someone off for a cabana?" Alison asked not at all surprised.

He carefully placed five bottles of water onto a small round glass between two of the chairs as he answered, "She usually gets what she wants."

"That's been made fairly clear," Spencer commented sinking down onto the edge of a lounge with her hands propped behind her.

"Where is she?" Alison asked with her eyes trailing around the outside searching the groups of chairs under umbrellas and a small bar under a wooden arbor at the other end of the pool.

"Umm," Spencer pointed to the pool, "I think that's her."

"Oh my god," the blonde chuckled. Emily was perched on a tall man's shoulders trying to push a skinny guy off of a girl's shoulders.

"Your girlfriend is playing chicken," Spencer laughed sliding her sunglasses onto her face.

As Emily was yanked off her partner's shoulders and slammed underwater, Charlie appropriately said, "She always loses."

"Really?" Alison chirped.

"Ch'yeah," Charlie answered as they watched Emily scurry back onto her partner's shoulders and clap her hands eager for another bout. "At least, she always loses when she's on top. She's better on the bottom."

"Keep that in mind, Ali," Spencer elbowed her friend, who was standing next to her, in the leg.

Ignoring the innuendo, Charlie asked politely, "Do you need anything else?"

After pulling her tunic over her head, Alison smiled, "We're good, thanks." She tossed her bag and cover-up by the small table and followed her friend's example and plopped down onto one of the cushioned lounge chairs to Spencer's right.

"Cool. I'll be back to check on you," Charlie nodded and walked to the bar on the opposite side of the pool.

"Does Emily have a personal servant?" Spencer snorted.

As Alison scooted further up into the slightly reclined chair away from the rays of sun sneaking under the cabana, she replied, "You can ask her when she's done doing.." she flicked a finger at the brunette who once again fell into the water, "that."

"What are you going to do about Duncan?"

The blonde's eyes bulged as she put on her sunglasses and snuggled into the back cushion of the chair, "That came out of nowhere."

"Ali."

"We're going to tell him," the blonde admitted evenly. She had told Aria and Spencer some of the delicate details of Emily's past but had skirted around the topic of her ex. It hadn't been brought up in depth since Alison had broken up with him after dragging her friends to an AA meeting to summon the courage to do something she thought might send her running to a liquor store.

"Are you going to be okay?" Spencer asked. "In the meeting, you mentioned that this would be a serious test of your sobriety."

"I think I'm fine," Alison answered with relief as she acknowledged the truth in her words. "Emily is—"

"An alcoholic."

The blonde glanced to her left at her friend who had also shed her tunic covering her bikini and said, "Yeah, Spence. I know."

After sliding up until her back hit the horizontal cushion, the brunette pointed out tipping her sunglasses on top of her head, "You're an alcoholic leaning on another alcoholic."

Alison ripped off her sunglasses and queried, "When did you become so anti-Emily?" Spencer's exploration of her girlfriend's apartment seemed out of place with her past enthusiasm for Emily.

"I'm not. Really. I'm not," the other woman calmly assured, "It's just." She leaned her head back and sighed, "She was small house, cheap-ish car and no furniture and now she's huge apartment, Mercedes, pool side service—"

"She's comfortable," the blonde gently interrupted her friend's concern. Glancing out into the pool, Alison explained, "She knows she doesn't have to hide anymore." As Emily popped out from under the water, she caught sight of Alison and waved happily sporting a huge smile Alison could see from twenty five yards away. "She let me in."

"You know I'm only saying this because I care."

The blonde nodded with understanding, "You were just as cynical about Cece and Duncan."

"I'm an equal opportunity scrutinizer," Spencer claimed as she pulled down her glasses and leaned back in the chair.

Alison settled her sunglasses back on her face and relaxed into her chair watching her girlfriend in the pool. "It makes sense that you're not wallowing in guilt about Duncan," Spencer randomly observed. "Since you've been sober, you tend not to dwell; you move forward."

Still studying her girlfriend's every move, Alison said, "Emily is the exact opposite."

"What do you think will happen with Duncan?" the brunette thought aloud concocting her own version of the impending confrontation.

With a sigh, Alison admitted, "I'm just hoping it doesn't turn into a pissing contest."

Laughing, Spencer recalled, "I've witnessed several memorable fights for your affection."

"It's obnoxious," the blonde groaned as she leaned over to grab a bottle of water. Although some people might find a heated tug of war over them appealing, she found it annoying and unnecessary. She knew what she wanted and people arguing never swayed her feelings. She screwed off the bottle cap and grumbled.

"Do you think Emily would actually participate in this hypothetical contest?"

Chuckling into her bottle, the blonde replied, "Definitely. If he pushes… she'll go there." No matter how noble Emily's intentions, she'd stoop to verbally kicking Duncan in the balls just to get her point across.

"I thought that you said she's really sensitive about hurting him."

"I don't think she's afraid to lash out rather immaturely at someone she cares about." She sighed sloshing the water around in the bottle. "I get the siblings vibe from them and I don't think they'd have a problem kicking each other in the teeth and laughing about it later."

"Except there isn't going to be a _later_ this time," Spencer stressed.

Alison winced knowing how much that fact weighed into Emily's reluctance to tell him the truth.

"Does she realize that?" Spencer pried. "She has to know that."

"She's not an idiot," Alison plopped the water beside her chair.

With a long sigh of relief grateful she had nothing to do with the shitstorm, the brunette said, "Have fun with that."

"Spence…" the blonde glanced at her friend and asked, "Do you think I'm crazy? For going through with this?"

"I haven't decided yet," the woman replied noncommittally before elaborating, "I really like her. She suits you _and_ she comes with a ball of crazy named Hanna…"

"But?" Alison prompted when her friend's voice trailed off.

"Just be careful."

The sound of an admiring whistle interrupted the conversation. Alison grinned at her girlfriend with her hands on her hips and water dripping from her elbows, "I'm pretty sure everyone is jealous of me right now."

As Emily grabbed a towel and roughly wiped her face, Alison asked, "Why is that?"

Emily answered brightly, "I have two beautiful girls in my cabana."

"You make three," Alison reached out motioning her girlfriend toward her.

"You're quite the flatterer, Em," Spencer noted while Emily sat down to her girlfriend's left.

As the blonde patted down her wet hair and back with the towel, Emily replied, "Flattery gets you everywhere."

Smirking at the comment, Alison corrected, "Not _everywhere_, apparently." Emily glanced over her shoulder and snickered at her girlfriend's reminder of their painful state of abstinence.

"Well, that clinches it," Spencer said with her friend's suggestive correction in mind, "I'm not only a third wheel, I'm a chaperone."

Alison answered, "No, you're—"

"Yup," Emily stood up, tapped her girlfriend on the shoulder and waved for her to move toward the front of the long chair. "That's exactly what you are." She slid behind her girlfriend and kissed her left shoulder.

"You two are incorrigible," the newly dubbed 'cock block' replied. When Emily rifled through Alison's bag and emerged with a bottle of sunscreen, Spencer asked, "Should I put on the sunscreen?"

"I can do that," Charlie chimed in.

"Nice try," Emily snorted at his well-timed appearance. "I'll give you points for effort."

"I do what I can," the boy smiled as he walked away.

"He puts on sunscreen?" Alison asked over her shoulder.

After pecking the back of Alison's head, Emily replied, "Just like flattery, money gets you everywhere—almost everywhere. Plus, he's nice."

With a raised eyebrow, Alison twisted around and realized pointing at Emily's bikini, "You weren't wearing that in the car."

Sliding off Alison's sunglasses and smirking, the brunette kissed Alison on the jaw and said, "Nope. I sure wasn't."

"Where did you change?" Alison tugged on the edge of the top of Emily's stringed bikini.

With a grin, Emily replied, "Charlie held up a towel."

"Wow," Spencer deadpanned with her usual reaction to Emily's antics.

Alison flicked at the brunette's jeweled barbell on her navel, "I'm just going to stop being shocked by everything that you say."

Emily turned her girlfriend back around with the blonde's back to her front, "That's probably a good idea." She flipped the bottle of sunscreen upside down and banged the top against her palm.

"Before you start," Spencer noted. "She won't burn _under_ her bikini."

Emily swept Alison's hair over her right shoulder and chuckled, "You never know." She tickled the blonde's skin along the edge of her bikini top and smirked when Alison shuddered. "Oh this is going to be fun."

When she wrapped her arms around Alison's torso and kissed her neck, Alison requested, "Please be nice."

"That's not what you usually say," Emily snickered in her ear.

"This whole situation is unfair," the blonde complained knowing Emily was free to roam most of her body while she faced the crowd at the pool and with access to her girlfriend.

"I'll be good," Emily claimed. When she leaned back, Alison heard her knocking the bottle against her palm again."So," Emily asked as she rubbed the cream onto Alison's upper back and shoulders, "Did you like my apartment?"

The sudden introduction of the topic instantly surfaced a slew of questions, "Have you already moved out?"

"Yeah," the brunette glided her hands down Alison's sides. "Mostly."

While Emily returned to the bottle, the blonde continued, "Why are there still clothes and dishes?"

"I'm way too lazy to pack everything all at once." She slathered more of the cream onto Alison's lower back.

"And the furniture?"

"There's no way it could fit in my house. And," she added, "I like starting fresh."

"There are two toothbrushes." It wasn't phrased as a question.

Emily finished rubbing along the top on Alison's bikini bottoms and said, "Why would I commit to one?"

"Food in the fridge?" Alison pushed her arms back so Emily could rub down her arms to her wrists.

"Are you afraid I have a girl stashed away here?" the woman chuckled making sure to cover the top of Alison's hands.

"I'm just curious," Alison replied. "And no, I don't think that."

"You're a handful," Emily squeezed her girlfriend's hands. "I don't have enough energy for another girl."

"Hey," Alison playfully protested. Emily's lotion caked hands appeared just below her chin and dripped the liquid just below the hollow of her throat. The brunette's fingers quickly plunged down to the edge of Alison's bikini top and dipped beneath it. "Don't do that," the blonde lightly slapped the back of her hands.

While her fingers glided across Alison's chest, Emily continued with her explanation, "I crash here when I'm in town." Emily's hand skipped over her girlfriend's breasts and trailed down her stomach, "My lease doesn't run out for another few weeks."

When the brunette's fingers slid a little too far under the red material, Alison moaned and whimpered, "Why are you so mean?"

"Okay guys," Spencer interrupted. "Those kinds of sounds are never a part of the sunscreen application process."

"Then you've been doing it wrong," Emily replied as she squeezed Alison's hips.

Glancing out over the pool, Spencer spotted two boys and a girl frantically waving in their direction. "Em, I think you're being summoned."

Emily's head popped up and she smiled, "Fuck yeah!" She wriggled out from behind Alison and quickly hopped to her feet. "Time for a rematch." She tossed the bottle of sunscreen into her girlfriend's lap. "Don't forget your legs." She leaned over and planted her hands on either side of Alison's hips. "And your face." She pecked the woman on the lips.

Alison chuckled and rolled her eyes at her girlfriend's enthusiasm. Emily had the attention span of a twitchy squirrel.

"What?" Emily asked with her face still hovering in front of Alison's. She joked, "You can't do those yourself?"

The blonde shook her head and said with a laugh, "Em, I love you, but—"

"You what now?" Emily jerked upward with a flash of terror in her eyes. When Alison blinked, it disappeared and had been replaced by an innocent confusion.

She stammered, "Uh. I mean. You know." She had no idea why the words had slipped from her lips. "That's just something people say. It's a phrase: 'I love you, but'."

"Yeah," Emily managed a tiny smile. "Okay." She quickly bent over and pressed the wisp of a smile into Alison's forehead. Leaning back up, she pointed and said, "I'm gonna go over there." She scampered to the edge of the pool and threw herself headlong into the water.

"Well… that was painfully awkward," Spencer said eyeing her bewildered friend.

As she swung her legs off the side of the lounge chair, Alison asked, "Did she seem majorly freaked out?" A little jarred by the past few seconds, Alison snatched the lotion and squirted way too much into her hands.

"More like shocked," Spencer offered. "Not really in a bad way. You didn't really commit to it. Was that a Freudian slip or—"

"I could really use a drink right now," Alison groaned as she frantically rubbed the cream up and down her legs.

"Sometimes your urges are so random."

"I can literally taste a strawberry daiquiri right now." She threw her head back and whined, "Why can't I have alcohol?"

"God, those made you so sick."

Pouting, the blonde replied, "But they tasted so fucking good."

"Until it came back up."

Alison glared at her friend, "Thanks for ruining my delicious alcohol fantasy."

"Alison, listen," Spencer pulled off her sunglasses and sat up with concern. "Don't read into what happened. You say that to Aria and I all the time." As Alison relaxed, she continued, "It's just something that you say to people when you're comfortable with them."

After a long, loud sigh, the blonde prompted, "And Emily's reaction?"

As she reclined, Spencer slid her glasses back on her face, "I wouldn't have expected anything else."

Alison shoved her sunglasses back onto her face and groaned. As she swung her legs back onto the lounge, she swatted away visions of a cold daiquiri giving her a blissful escape from her confusing verbal slip. Spencer's logical explanation of her use of the phrase lulled her into a calm that was only periodically interrupted by the twinge of fear in Emily's eyes and her hasty retreat. Before she plunged into an abyss of worry, she buzzed her lips and closed her eyes letting the sounds of other conversations distract her from the dialogue in her head.

Spencer was right. What else would she have expected from Emily?

* * *

"Why can't I have boobs like that?" Alison heard Spencer complain.

With her eyes still closed, the blonde snorted, "Are you having your monthly moment of boob envy?"

"I'm triggered when I'm confronted with _those_."

When Spencer emphasized the word, Alison felt compelled to look, "Don't point!" she gasped when she opened her eyes and saw Spencer's arm outstretched. It only took a few seconds for Alison to spot the large chest Spencer referred to. "Her lipstick bugs me," the blonde commented on the bright red color coating the woman's lips.

"Look a little lower, Ali. I'm sure Emily wouldn't mind if you—"

"Why is she so tan?" Alison continued to criticize the woman. "And why the hell is she wearing heels?"

"You are such a straight girl sometimes."

"Fine," Alison proceeded to inspect the blonde woman from head to toe. "She has nice boobs and a nice ass." She whipped her gaze to her friend. "She's attractive. Is that bi-sexual enough for you?"

Although Alison couldn't see behind the sunglasses, Spencer's eyes widened and she tensed, "Boobs is coming."

Noting her friend's alarm, the blonde glanced back and saw the woman strutting toward her. "Boobs _is_ coming." she reemphasized.

"You're right," Spencer commented as the woman approached, "That tan is a bit much, _but_ her face is gorgeous _and_ those boobs…"

Before Alison could shush her friend, the blonde in heels greeted her warmly with a thick Southern accent, "Hey there, beautiful."

Alison returned half-heartedly, "Hi… you."

Although not peeling her gaze from Alison, she nodded over her shoulder and greeted Spencer, "And hi to your friend."

"Ouch," Spencer muttered barely loud enough for Alison to hear.

Pulling off her bug-eyed sunglasses, the stranger said to Alison, "I haven't seen you here before. I thought I knew all the pretty girls."

While Alison rolled her eyes behind her sunglasses and swallowed a groan, her friend commented, "We've _definitely_ been missing out by not knowing you."

Alison tipped her sunglasses up on top of her head and offered as she motioned to the pool, "We're actually here with—"

"My goodness, you have beautiful eyes," the woman interrupted. "They might be the most beautiful things about you."

Alison heard Spencer snicker as she reached for a sweating bottle of water. She replied flatly to the compliment, "Thanks."

Not deterred by Alison's lack of interest, the woman continued, "With those beautiful eyes, I'm shocked that you've been left all by your lonesome."

"Am I not here?" Spencer muttered.

The woman winked, "I wouldn't let a beautiful thing like you out of my sight."

"She really is _beautiful_ isn't she?" Spencer emphasized the woman's repetitious use of the word.

Ignoring her friend, Alison replied, "I think I'll survive for a few minutes."

"I don't know," the woman shook her head playfully. "You might get snatched right up."

"I don't think there's a chance of that," Spencer assured sarcastically.

Chuckling, the intruder disagreed, "I can be quite persuasive."

"I have _no_ doubt of that," Alison returned with a raised eyebrow. This woman could persuade anyone to excuse themselves with a pathetic claim of needing to do laundry.

"Emily Fields!"

Alison's eyebrows knit with confusion at her admirer's eager greeting of her girlfriend.

"Hey… friend," Emily replied with an awkward wave. Beads of water dripped down her face and over her lips, which she stretched into a forced, plastic looking smile.

As the brunette pawed the salted pool water from her eyes, the woman smirked and returned, "Hello to you too, 'friend'." From the annoyed look on Emily's face, Alison figured her girlfriend had previously fallen victim to the woman's obnoxious advances. The woman continued, "Where have you been hidin'? We've missed you around here. Most of the neighbors keep puttin' me off when I suggest a get together."

Without thinking, Emily said, "It's hard to imagine someone turning you down."

Alison and Spencer's eyes bulged and jaws dropped while the other woman smirked, "You always were a tease."

"No!" Emily jolted realizing what she implied, "That's not—"

"That's still there I see," the blonde pointed at the scar on Emily's torso. Still reeling from the woman's suggestive interpretation of her girlfriend's comment, Alison reluctantly debated how often and under what circumstances the woman had seen Emily's scar. Her conclusion made her gag.

"Scars don't typically disappear in a few weeks," Emily informed.

"Well," the woman replied, "It's the sexiest scar I have ever seen."

"Sexy?" Alison asked. While the mark in no way detracted from her girlfriend's beauty, she wouldn't refer to it as sexy. If it weren't for Emily's look of irritation, Alison might have stepped in and shut down the woman's flirtation.

Tossing a smile Alison's way, the woman nodded, "I guess it's more how she got it. That type of bravery is just irresistible." The woman's hungry gaze drifted back to Emily, who quickly snatched up a towel and wrapped it around her.

"I'm sorry. What?" Alison asked with confusion knowing Emily received the scar on one of the worst nights of her life.

Securing her towel, Emily shrugged, "It was nothing."

"Don't be so humble," the woman chided. "It was so brave." She glanced over at a clueless Alison and Spencer. "You don't know?"

"We _really_ want to," Spencer encouraged.

With wide eyes, the woman said, "She saved a guy from gettin' stabbed."

"What?" Alison snorted glancing over at Emily who nodded with a blank expression except for a small curled corner of her mouth.

Excited to recount the tale, the woman spilled the details with conviction, "Emily jumped in front of a knife at the last minute. This gang was tryin' to kill this guy for a special ring he was carrying to be destroyed. The ring was really old and it was made in a volcano called Mt. Doom."

"Seriously?" Spencer tossed an amused glance at the other brunette who smiled deviously. Although Alison knew the story was completely fabricated, she didn't pick up on the reference that made it even more absurd.

"And then one of the guy's friends came in and scared off all the other guys."

Trying not to laugh, Spencer asked, "Did the friend have a torch and a sword?"

Emily laughed into her hand as the woman telling the story chuckled at Spencer's ridiculous suggestion, "No. He just scared them off. Who carries a sword?"

"It was just my natural reaction to jump in and save him," Emily puffed out her chest while Spencer heaved suppressing an outburst of giggles.

With an adoring look at her 'friend', the storyteller said, "Emily is the bravest woman I have ever met."

"That's quite the story," Spencer replied clearing her throat, "It almost sounds like it could be from a movie or a book."

"She really is just that brave."

"Wait. Is she _brave_?" Alison mocked the woman's lack of vocabulary and overuse of the word that had completely lost its impact at that point.

"Aww," the woman said as she focused her attention back to Alison, "don't get jealous. I came over here for you."

"Oh! That's what's happening here," Emily replied with irritation. "Alison can I talk to—" she waved off the advancing bleached blonde and corrected, "not you. _That_ Alison." She pointed at her girlfriend.

"Your name is Alison?" Emily's dumfounded girlfriend blurted as Emily breathed out a sigh of defeat at her failure to avoid this situation. Alison groaned realizing that she was only feet away from one of the 'Alison's Hanna had rubbed in her face several days ago at brunch.

Wrapped up in the escalating drama, Spencer commented quietly, "Can this get anymore entertaining?"

With a pout, the standing blonde said, "Aww. Don't hog her Emily. I know you don't mind sharin'."

Spencer smiled at her good fortune in being brought along on this trip, "I love being a third wheel."

In that moment, Alison didn't know whether to feel sorry for herself wallowing in disgust or Emily drowning in discomfort.

The brunette replied, "I don't make a habit of sharing my girlfriend."

"Oh my," the woman commented, "This just got awkward."

"Especially now that you've said it," the other Alison clarified. As she spoke, she saw Emily glance over the standing blonde's shoulder at Charlie, who was approaching with a tray of three mixed drinks. Emily mouthed "please" to the boy and nodded in the blonde woman's direction.

As he smiled with understanding, the oblivious woman said, "I'm not sure which of you I'm more jealous of, I—" Charlie slammed into her back spilling two pink drinks and one blue down her back and into her long blonde hair. "What the hell?!" She spun around and screamed at the boy. "What is wrong with you?"

Emily, Alison and Spencer all choked on laughter at the sight of colored ice dripping down the woman's back and staining her white bikini top and bottoms as it dribbled down from her shoulders to her overly tanned legs and onto the concrete.

"I'm so, so sorry! I'm s—so so—sorry," Charlie stuttered with apologetic eyes as he retreated from the woman's wrath, guarding himself with a metal tray shaking in his hands.

"Do you know how much this costs?" the furious woman screeched as she snapped the strap of her bikini top.

"I'm sorry, Ms. Richardson. So sorry."

"You fuckin' clumsy idiot! I'll see to it that you don't have a job in the mornin'!" Without a word to the other women, she stomped off muttering curse words.

"Aww. We're sorry to see you go," Spencer called out. "Nice to meet you!"

"Wow," Alison deadpanned while her gaze flitted between her relieved girlfriend, the rapidly melting icy mess on the ground and the snickering boy.

"That's my line," Spencer corrected jokingly staking a claim on her unofficially patented response to Emily's plethora of shocking admissions.

Pulling off her towel, Emily sighed gratefully, "Jesus Christ. Thank you, Charlie." She patted the boy on the shoulder. "I seriously owe you."

"Oh please," Charlie chuckled, "I've wanted to do that ever since she made me move an umbrella fifty times to keep her out of the sun."

As Emily sank down on the end of Alison's lounge chair, the blonde said, "If she stays out of the sun, why—"

"There are a few tanning beds next to the gym," Charlie snorted.

"Sounds about right," Spencer said laying back into her chair now that Alison the Entertainer had left the building.

As Charlie walked off to get something to clean up the mess, Alison kicked her girlfriend playfully and said, "That girl is a train wreck of stupid." Emily snatched the woman's foot and poked at her toes as she continued, "Does she really believe that knifing story?"

"Does she know how to use a thesaurus?" Spencer quipped.

Answering her girlfriend, Emily replied, "Of course she does. Why would someone this hot lie about a scar—oww!" the brunette snagged the other foot Alison aimed at her ribcage.

Spencer clarified, "That doesn't even look like a knife wound and that story was a modified version of a scene from Lord of the Rings."

As she released Alison's squirming feet, Emily replied with a smile, "She doesn't know that. She also believes that my great uncle invented the internet and I'm one of a set of separated conjoined twins."

"You don't have a twin," Alison replied skeptically.

With a dramatic sigh, Emily replied, "My sister didn't make it." She wiped away a non-existent tear.

"Oh my god," Alison smacked her face into her palm, "It cannot be possible to be that gullible."

Taking a sip of water, Spencer commented to Emily, "I'm guessing that a reasonably high IQ, or even average IQ, is not a part of your criteria."

Alison looked up to see her girlfriend rolling her eyes, "She's not that dumb when she's not talking." Alison gaped at the blatant innuendo . "Oh fuck me. Kill me now." Emily whined as she tipped over and smashed her face between Alison's knees.

"Has anyone ever told you how _not_ smooth you are?" Spencer chuckled as Alison patted her girlfriend on the head.

The blonde noted, "Her name is Alison…"

"Ugh," Emily mumbled into her legs.

"And she's blonde."

"Umph," the brunette grunted.

"And she is dumb as shit."

"Fuck me," the brunette groaned. After a few seconds of heavy breathing, she added a few muffled words, "I'd like to crawl into a hole now."

"You might need something deeper than a hole," Spencer suggested.

"Baaaaahhh," Emily whined loudly.

"You are fucking adorable when you're flustered," Alison smiled at the traumatized brunette hiding her shame in Alison's knees.

As Emily pushed herself upward and slid closer to Alison, Spencer said, "I didn't think you were capable of being embarrassed."

Gaze still fixed on the concrete, Emily grumbled, "I'm full of surprises."

Alison leaned into her girlfriend's ear and whispered with one finger trailing up Emily's spine, "Why am I so turned on right now?"

Smirking, Emily glanced up and replied, "Looks like someone else is full of surprises."

"Knowing that you slept with a moron with huge boobs probably shouldn't have this effect on me." She traced the scar on Emily's stomach, "It's probably your sexy battle wound." Emily just smiled watching Alison's fingers slide across her skin. "Do you always tell that Lord of the whatever story when people ask?"

"It's a different story every time," she sighed tugging at Alison's fingers until the blonde threaded them through hers. "You're one of the few people who know the real story. I mean, aside from the huge group of people at the AA meeting."

"You've never told another…" Alison paused unsure of how to word her question. As Emily tucked some of her long blonde hair behind an ear, she finished, "another girl the real story?"

The brunette swallowed and replied hesitantly, "Only one… and you." Her unoccupied fingers brushed against Alison's cheek. "Please don't ask who."

"I wasn't going to," the blonde assured quickly but gently. She knew exactly who Emily had told and she didn't want to hear her ex-girlfriend's name on Emily's lips.

Emily kissed her thoughtful girlfriend on the forehead and prompted, "You've looked like you wanted to say something since you came up to the pool."

Tapping a finger on Emily's lips, Alison whispered, "Not here."

The brunette's face dropped, "What did I do?"

"Em," the blonde squeezed Emily's hand. "It's nothing like that."

Still a bit wary, Emily rose to her feet and pulled her girlfriend up after her. "There's a crazy clean private pool bathroom over there."

Alison wrapped both of her hands around Emily's left arm as Spencer said, "I'll forgive you for leaving me because I'll be laughing about 'Alison' for weeks."

* * *

When Emily locked the door behind them, she offered, "I'm sorry for whatever it is."

With her ass propped on the counter, Alison shook her head and held out her hands, "Come here." When a somewhat dejected Emily folded her hands into Alison's, the blonde smirked, "You have a guilt complex, babe." She answered her girlfriend's confused look by nodding at her chest, "I want to see them."

"Ahhhh," the brunette chuckled. "You could have just said that." She pressed herself into Alison and pinned their hands onto the grey granite countertop.

With her hands glued beside her, the blonde couldn't grip Emily's face and instead jutted her head forward to capture her girlfriend's lips laced with salt from the pool between her own. Emily had offered a multitude of chaste kisses in the afternoon, but that wasn't nearly enough to satiate Alison's hunger. Without hands to steady their heads, they alternately teetered one other backward with the force of their heated kisses. Unless their mouths parted for breath, their lips were locked with tongues determined to coax out a whimper or a moan.

Each small sound spurred Alison forward as she nipped at Emily's lips and closed her own lips around Emily's tongue. Every tiny seed of doubt dotting her thoughts concerning Emily's somewhat grandiose display of her money slipped away as her girlfriend chased her lips for constant contact. Amid the chaos of their passionate kiss, there was no room for her unfounded insecurities.

"God," Alison turned her head away from Emily's greedy mouth to breathe. "This not having sex thing…" Her girlfriend's lips danced along her jaw, "isn't working for me."

Emily tipped her head upward as her hands clamped onto Alison's hips, "Just…" The blonde's tongue traced down her neck, "not much longer."

Alison warmed the wet trail left by her tongue with a long soft exhale before she said, "You're lucky that I think you're worth it."

Emily spun her girlfriend around and forced her front against the counter. As she grinned into the mirror, she joked, "Of course I am."

"You are so full of yourself," Alison chuckled as she flattened her palms on the granite and locked eyes on her girlfriend's face in the mirror.

With a look of admiration, the brunette whispered, "How are you so beautiful?" Alison couldn't help but blush seeing her own face react to Emily's words. "You were the mean girl in high school and now you're—" she stared with disbelief. "You care so much and so hard. Why else would you put up with me?"

"How do you go from teasing to this?" Alison asked too distracted by her face and Emily's to notice Emily untying the strings of her own bikini. "You're not so bad your—Em!" Her eyes widened when the brunette's top dropped onto the counter in front of her and Emily squeezed Alison into her breasts. "Oh my god," the blonde bit her lip as the tips of the metal barbells on Emily's nipples dug into her skin. "I can feel them."

With her mouth next to Alison's right ear, Emily moaned, "Your teeth are going to feel so good." She rubbed her chest into the writhing blonde.

"Em, please," Alison jerked to her left and right trying to turn around to finally see the jewelry that she'd been picturing in her mind for days.

"Nope," the brunette admonished as she nibbled on Alison's ear. "Don't even think about it."

Alison felt Emily rocking her hips while she dragged her breasts on her back. As the metal swirled against her skin, the blonde panted, "You are so—mmmm." She had to push against her palms to keep Emily from crushing her against the counter. "You're going to pay for this."

As Emily lowered her mouth to Alison's shoulder, she chuckled, "I hope so—fucking ewww," her head jerked up as she sputtered and buzzed her lips, "Sunscreen!"

"Ugh!" the blonde dropped her head forward and groaned, "Way to ruin it."

Swiping her left hand over her lips and tongue, Emily hacked, "Fuck this is nasty."

"Seriously, Em, I—holy shit!" Desire flared from her chest down to her center as two hands slid under her bikini and gripped her breasts. "What are you—fuck," she winced with pleasure as Emily massaged her breasts beneath the fabric.

"You owe me," the brunette muttered as she squeezed her girlfriend's nipples between her middle and index fingers.

With Emily's chest flattened against her and Emily's hands on her breasts, Alison unconsciously held her breath. After a few moments of savoring her girlfriend's hands rolling her breasts, she exhaled, "So not nice."

"Look at me," Emily instructed.

Alison felt the throbbing from between her legs pounding between her ears when she met Emily's eyes in the mirror. There wasn't a trace of brown left in her girlfriend's eyes. The color had been drowned by a flood of lust. Emily's clit swelled as she rubbed against Alison's ass while her nipples tingled feeling the metal sliding and shifting beneath her skin. "Shit," the blonde muttered overwhelmed by the desire swimming in her girlfriend's eyes. Her eyelids squeezed shut as Emily's thumbs scratched her nipples.

"Open them," the brunette commanded with a moan.

As her eyes fluttered open, Alison begged the face in the mirror, "Please take it off."

Emily shook her head at Alison's entreaty to remove her bikini top, "No. Just look at me."

Even with her eyes focused on her girlfriend's face which crinkled every time she rocked into her, Alison could see her own face with her mouth hanging open as she panted, "God, Emily. Take it off!"

Ignoring Alison's desperate request, Emily whimpered when her girlfriend began rolling her hips, "Christ, Ali."

Exasperated and trembling with need, the blonde yelped, "Emily Fucking Fields! Take off my top!"

Before Alison could reach behind her and unclasp the bikini, the brunette glued her hands to the counter, "I told you that's not my middle name."

"I want you to see me."

Brown streaks suddenly returned to Emily's eyes and she commented sweetly, almost sheepishly, "I do see you."

"You are so cheesy," the blonde chuckled at her girlfriend's admission.

"That was awkwardly timed…"

Alison shook her head and smiled, "No babe, it was—"

"Guys!" Alison heard Spencer's voice accompanied by a pound on the door. "I saw you go in there. No funny business ladies."

Emily chuckled in Alison's ear as the blonde complained, "Go away, Spence!"

"You guys made me your chaperone… so," Emily snatched her top off the counter and spun around to conceal her chest from Alison's view. As Alison grumbled, Spencer continued, "You two better be decent."

Tying her string bikini in record time, Emily jumped toward the door, unlocked it and sighed with relief, "Thanks to you, we are."

As Emily barreled out the door followed by a sulking Alison, Spencer laughed, "Em, you actually look happy to see me."

"She is," Alison complained, "I'm _not_."

Not even glancing over her shoulder, Emily said, "I'll be right back." She sprinted to the pool and dove into the water.

"Wow," Spencer chuckled. "She really wants to get in your pants."

"Spencer Hastings," Alison chided playfully as they walked back to the cabana.

The brunette shrugged, "There isn't a 'Hastings' way to say that."

When Emily surfaced shaking water from her face, Alison joked, "Babe, can you come out now?"

When her girlfriend reached the cabana, Emily hung her arms over the edge of the pool and answered, "If you put on a burka."

Alison rolled her eyes and yanked on her tunic. "How about this?"

"Yeah," the brunette pushed herself out of the pool. "That works."

When a dripping wet Emily emerged, Alison tossed a towel and demanded, "You cover up too."

Shaking her head, Emily admitted reluctantly, "A pool was a bad idea."

"Ya think?" Spencer observed from her chair.

"How much longer do I have to wait?" Alison purred in her girlfriend's arms.

"Hopefully not long," Emily picked at the threads on the back of Alison's cover-up.

"What if there's all this buildup and the sex is absolutely horrible?"

Both Alison and Emily turned to Spencer with blank looks. "Really, Spencer," Alison groaned.

"What?" the woman shrugged. "It happens."

"Oh ye of little faith," Emily smirked at the other brunette.

"Always so confident," the blonde chuckled turning back to her girlfriend.

Quietly, Emily said, "I know you'll barely have to touch me."

Alison replied, "Why's that?"

Leaning into Alison's ear, Emily brushed her lips against her girlfriend's ear with every word, "Because when I think of you, I don't have to work very hard."

"Shit," the blonde buried her face in Emily's shoulder. "Now I need to jump in the pool."

Emily nudged Alison's head upward, pressed her forehead against Alison's and whispered almost as a plea, "Don't go…"

For some reason, those two tiny words blanketed Alison with a sense of peace. Although Emily's past sexual encounters had been devoid of any type of romance, the brunette couldn't even tease or touch Alison without unconsciously exposing her quickly blossoming affection for Alison as well as her emotional needs. As Emily contently stood and breathed with Alison in her arms, the blonde's stomach flipped and her chest warmed knowing she was falling for this woman. There was no way in hell she would let her go.

* * *

**Pools are awesome for Emison!**

**I re-read this and there is a lot of taking off and putting on sunglasses action. What's up with that? Haha. **

**So. Next chapter… good shit happens. Trust me :)**

**Oh. I definitely should be thanking MysticalGoddessOfWords every chapter. She keeps some of these scenes from going crazy even though I think she just likes getting sneak peeks. :) Thank you!**


	16. Chapter 16

**Hey y'all! I promised that there would be good shit and there is! It just took awhile to write. I think you'll forgive me for the wait once you read the chapter. :)**

**I hope that everyone is still enjoying this Emison journey and I give many, many thanks to everyone who is reading and reviewing. **

**I highly recommend that you don't read this with other people nearby ;)**

* * *

In the sparsely populated town of Rosewood, Emily had a bad habit of daydreaming while driving. The familiarity of the roads lulled her into a false sense of security. Today was a terrible day for drifting thoughts.

"Fuck!" She slammed on her brakes when a body threw itself in front of her car. Her racing heartbeat skipped when she recognized the blur peering into her car with hands rapping on the hood. "Duncan!" she screamed rolling down her window. "What the hell?!"

He chuckled as she clutched her chest and heaved. "Hey there, stranger."

As he leaned into her car with his forearms propped in the driver's side window, she joked still breathless, "No apology for jumping in front of me like a crazy person?" His smile widened as she reminded with a scowl, "It's not like I've lived through a traumatic car accident or anything."

Patting his friend on the head with fake pity, Duncan replied, "Yeah, yeah, I know."

She couldn't help but smirk at his dismissal. She could have used that attitude over the past two years. While Hanna didn't shirk her duties in the tough love department, she didn't bring the same levity that Duncan did to snarky comments. "You're an asshole," she pushed him back with her hand on his face.

He swatted away her hand, "I could say the same to you. You don't call; you don't write." He smiled, "Did you get sick of my whining?"

"I knew whining was a good word," she mumbled as she mentally patted herself on the back for what Alison had deemed a poor word choice.

Glancing down at his feet, he sighed teetering back and forth between his heels and toes, "I know I was wasted. I shouldn't have called."

She shifted uncomfortably, "You _really_ don't need to apologize."

"That's right," he nodded bouncing his index finger on his forehead as he recalled. "You're the jerk here. Going around and ignoring your best friend's phone calls." He ended with a small pout. She missed that adorable look on his face. He was one of the warmest men she'd ever met with a wild side to match her own.

"I am definitely the jerk here," she shook her head with a twinge of shame knowing she was a jerk in more ways than he knew.

He tapped against the hood of the car excitedly, "You wanna come inside and hang out? We've got two years to make up for."

"I—" She knew what her answer should be and she had every intention of honoring her promise to Alison. A tiny spurt of nausea shot from her stomach to her throat as she realized she and Duncan might never have another civil conversation and definitely would never hang out like they used to.

"There's no alcohol," he assured, attributing her hesitation to the possibility of leftover beer and liquor. "And I've got the new Grand Theft Auto."

"God I love those stupidly addicting games," she groaned. She would love to have his company while spending hours stealing people's cars and shooting people. She highly doubted Alison would thrive in the video game cave she formed with closed blinds, dimmed lights, chips and lots of caffeine.

"Then come inside and we can kill some people."

"I really can't..." Her voice trailed off as she quietly suppressed the loop of curse words rolling around in her head.

"Look," he assured leaning back into the window. "I promise I won't bitch about Alison. We just need some bro time." An extremely weak, guilt ridden smile stretched across her lips as he continued. "We always had at least two nights a week, just the two of us."

She really wanted to pummel her steering wheel to channel her overwhelming frustration. Part of her longed to go inside, hang out with him and pretend like nothing was wrong. However, she knew Alison would string her up by her toenails and then probably break up with her. She stressed once again, "I really can't."

He smirked poking her jokingly in the shoulder, "Don't tell me you've already found girls in Rosewood?"

"Ummmm," the universal sound of passive admittance slipped from her lips.

"Bros before hoes," he reminded with feigned sincerity.

"I—" As her eye contact wavered, she reached for one explanation that he would believe, "I just came from a meeting and I'm wiped." In reality, she was driving home from Alison's house. "I need to crash." At least that was true.

"Fine, fine," he nodded with understanding. "How about tomorrow?" He asked hopefully.

"Tomorrow isn't good," she said quickly rushing the conversation. She could only lie to his face for so long.

"Em. C'mon," he said with both confusion and disappointment.

"I promise I'll see you sometime this week."

"I'm going to hold you to that," he said pleased with the prospect of spending time with his friend. Unfortunately, it wasn't going to be the bro night he expected.

"Cool. So I'm going to drive home and try not to hit idiots who jump into the road."

"Who the hell does that shit?" his eyes twinkled as he kissed her on the forehead. "Be safe. Oh… Em?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for listening over the phone. It means a lot." Every single word dropping out of his mouth piled more dirt onto her mountain of guilt. "I can't talk to Toby and Ezra like this."

"Not a problem," the corners of her lips barely pulled up into a smile.

"Are we back to normal?"

_Fuck. Fuck. Fuck._ "Definitely."

He stepped back with a grin and waved her forward, "Get out of here, Fields."

After turning a corner at the end of the street, Emily pulled out her phone and called her most recent contact. "Hey babe, guess who I almost killed with my car."

* * *

"Auri," Emily called out from her kitchen to the girl on her couch. "Do you like macaroni and cheese?"

"Yes, Emmy!" Auri replied loud enough to be heard over the television.

"Good, because that's what I'm making," she said setting down a pot of water onto her stove top. Thank god Mona wasn't picky about what her daughter ate. Emily had only been instructed to steer clear of sugar for the day. Since Auri was born in Mona's last year of college, Mona had been too caught up with juggling classes and a baby to care about dietary restrictions. Emily and Maya made countless grocery store runs picking up the cheapest baby formula and containers of Gerber.

"Hey babe," Alison chirped from the couch next to Auri. "Weren't you waiting on an answer from Hanna about tomorrow?"

"Did I get a text?" The brunette asked over her shoulder as she flipped on the eye of the stove.

"Yup."

"Can you check it and just yell out a curse-word-free version of whatever she says? I know how you feel about getting up from the couch." Emily snickered at her own sarcasm. Alison did love that couch.

Barely five seconds later, the blonde stomped into the kitchen wielding her girlfriend's phone, "Who is Stephanie and why does she miss your tongue?"

"Oh joy," Emily groaned dropping her head and sighing.

"An answer would be nice," the blonde pressed with irritation.

Facing her irked girlfriend who was waving the screen in front of her face, Emily said, "It's not what you think."

When Emily reached for the phone, Alison jerked it behind her head and demanded, "Then please tell me what it means."

"It means you probably shouldn't check my phone from now on." Emily made another swipe for her phone.

"Now on!" Alison's jaw dropped. "You get texts like this all the time?"

"No!" The brunette waved her hands negating the claim but then corrected reluctantly, "I mean yes. I did. I used to. Past tense." Emily insisted finally giving up on her phone and stirring the empty pot of water.

"How many texts did you get like this in say… a week?"

Not even considering answering the question, Emily set the spoon on the counter and held out an open hand, "Ali, can I please have my phone?"

"Fine," the blonde slapped the phone into her girlfriend's hand. "Can I have an answer?"

"No, you most certainly cannot," Emily shook her head as her fingers tapped on her phone screen.

"What are you doing?" Alison crossed her arms and asked defiantly, "Telling Stephanie she can't spend her four hour layover with your tongue?"

The brunette snorted at the phrasing, "I'm telling her that I have a girlfriend. I won't hear from her again. She'll take me off whatever list she has."

Cringing, Alison responded with her tongue wiping around in her mouth with disgust, "You probably could have left out that last sentence."

"Huh. Why?" an oblivious Emily asked looking up from her phone.

"Saying 'list' is beyond gross," Alison replied. Mouthing 'oh', the brunette nodded returning her attention to the screen. "Now what are you doing?" the blonde inquired. Instantly, her face scrunched up in abhorrence of the nagging words coming out of her mouth.

"Deleting numbers that I don't need anymore." Emily tapped and swiped. She rolled her eyes at the ridiculous amount of scrolling and clicking it took to delete a contact.

Apparently, Alison picked up on the excessive effort and commented, "That's a lot of numbers."

"Ali…" Emily glanced up with a look of concern.

She studied the blonde's face as Alison shrugged, "It's just an observation."

Shaking her head, Emily slid her phone onto the counter. "Don't lie to me." She pried the blonde's arms from across her chest and kissed the tops of both of her hands.

With a sigh, her Northern girl admitted, "I don't want to see texts like that." She added, "I shouldn't have to."

"I know," Emily agreed. "I'm sorry." When the conflicted irritation drained from Alison's blue eyes, Emily added, "I'd flip out if I saw that on your phone."

"Would you?" Alison smiled cocking an eyebrow.

"Duh," the brunette continued, "I don't really wanna know who you've… slept with—oh shi—crap." Emily censored her annoyance as she smacked her palm onto her forehead. _Am I really this dense?_

"What?"

After a long sigh, Emily asked hesitantly, "Are you uncomfortable with my uh…" she struggled to find an appropriate word and decided on something vague, "_past_ with multiple pe—"

"No," Alison chirped before Emily could finish the sentence. "You're with me now. None of that matters."

Her answer was perfect, too perfect, and Emily knew it. "You expect me to believe that?"

Pausing as if rolling a tumble of responses around in her head, Alison replied, "I don't know how to answer that."

Not wanting the boiling of water to distract her from Alison, Emily turned off the eye of the stove. She backed herself into the counter with her girlfriend in front of her, "Tell me how it makes you feel."

As the blonde nibbled on her bottom lip, Emily's brow knit together with worry. In her mind, the past is the past. She had been naive to think it was that simple for Alison. Clearly not wanting to create any kind of tension, Alison offered, "I just need to adjust."

Emily frowned at the ambiguous answer, which bothered her because Alison seemed reluctant to tell her the truth. The brunette smiled hoping to put her girlfriend at ease and said, "Babe. I really want to know. She tucked blonde hair behind Alison's ear and assured, "How you feel about this _really_ matters to me."

Alison breathed, "I feel insecure."

"Ali," Emily winced at the response and she rubbed the tops of Alison's hands with her thumbs.

"I know you want to be with me," the blonde assured. "I do. I just…"

"You just what?" Emily pressed to coax the rest of the words from Alison's mouth.

"I worry."

Hoping contact might offer a bit of security, Emily pulled Alison toward her, draped the blonde's arms behind her neck and asked, "About what?"

"What if I—" the blonde cleared her throat, "get lost in the shuffle."

"Wait what?" Emily almost choked.

Alison cocked an eyebrow knowing she didn't need to spell it out. "You know what I mean."

"That is absolutely _not_ going to happen," Emily shook her head with wide eyes and wrapped her arms around the blonde's waist. Did Alison not know how incredibly addicted she was to her presence and everything about her? Although they spent a fair amount of time in their individual lives, those days apart were plagued with occasional pangs of withdrawal.

Matter-of-factly, the blonde replied with her hands shrugging behind Emily's head, "You can't say that for sure."

"Heck yes I can," the brunette scoffed. Her eyes darted upward and she stressed. "I have _never_ wanted to be with someone so freaking badly." It didn't register that her declaration encompassed every woman she had ever known, including Maya. She brushed her fingertips on Alison's back and said, "I don't think about anyone else but you. I probably couldn't if I tried."

Alison smiled for the first time in a few minutes. "You really like me don't you? Like really, really."

Emily's face scrunched, "It kinda freaks me out." Two beautiful blue eyes stared into hers begging for Emily to embrace her tender emotions rather than dismiss them. Emily knew she failed to express her feelings consistently and she could tell that Alison needed a peek right now. "You look at me and nothing else matters. I get all fuzzy."

"All fuzzy?" the blonde grinned.

Through eyes squinted with discomfort, Emily groaned sarcastically, "I don't sound whipped at all."

"I like sweet Emily."

The adorable look on Alison's face encouraged another sappy response. "Please tell me if I ever do something that makes you feel like you aren't the most important person in my life."

Immeasurable affection swam in Alison's eyes. Before Emily could decide whether her own terror outweighed her excitement, Alison pulled her forward and bathed Emily's lips with her devotion and passion. As Alison's lips thanked her girlfriend for a brief moment of transparency, Emily sighed as she pinpointed what emotion swallowed every other one whole: contentment. There was nowhere that she would rather be and no one else she would rather be with at this point in her life.

"Umm, Em," Alison murmured against the brunette's lips.

"Yes, beautiful?" the brunette planted one last kiss and pulled back.

"Speaking of other people…" She swallowed as her hands dropped from Emily's neck to her waist then said nervously, "I need to ask you something and I'm afraid it will sound rude."

Easily recognizing the hesitant tone and awkward wording she'd memorized over the past few years, Emily replied with an understanding smile, "I'm clean. I've never had anything." She almost added "surprisingly" but wisely thought better of it.

"Oh," Alison's eyes froze wide open in shock that Emily anticipated her dreaded, but necessary question.

"Uhhh…" Emily worried she might have just offered unsolicited information. "You were going to ask that, right?"

"Yeah," the blonde fiddled with the bottom of her girlfriend's top. "I'm sorry."

Pecking Alison on the forehead, Emily said, "Don't be. It's a valid question. Do you want me to get tested again?" She offered while turning out of Alison's embrace toward the stove to flip on the eye to start boiling the water. "I have some free time tomorrow."

Standing behind Emily, the blonde wrapped her arms around the brunette's waist and chuckled, "Why do I find you more attractive for asking that?"

With Alison attached to her back, Emily shuffled to the pantry. "I have super powers."

As Emily retrieved the box of macaroni, Alison kissed the back of her neck and replied, "Don't get tested." She awkwardly stumbled with Emily back to the counter. "I believe you." When the brunette set down the box, Alison spun the woman around and reminded with two fingers walking up Emily's chest, "You know, this is only relevant if we're having sex."

Emily gulped and nodded to the living room, "There's a little person in the other room, babe. Keep it PG."

Sliding her hands into Emily's back pockets, Alison replied, "I think I can get away with saying that I really want you inside me."

"Not PG!"

Alison squeezed and purred, "She doesn't know what we're talking about."

Shaking her head, Emily disagreed, "She's smarter than you think."

"Oh," the blonde chirped innocently as her hands reappeared and pushed Emily into the counter. "She would know what it means if I say I want to taste you?"

"Holy sh—" Emily gasped and swallowed the expletive for Auri's sake. "Stop it, Ali."

The blonde trailed kisses up Emily's neck, "I'm not doing anything."

"Tease."

"Are you wet right now?" Alison asked letting her tongue glide against Emily's skin as she spoke.

"Alison," the brunette grabbed her relentless girlfriend by the chin and jerked her face to the living room. "Auri is right there."

With hands sliding up Emily's shirt, the blonde insisted, "Baby, she doesn't know what it means. Answer me."

"Alison…" Emily warned.

"Emmy!"

"Auri!" Emily yelped far too enthusiastically at the tiny voice attached to the body of the beaming girl who jumped into the room.

Covering her ears, the girl said, "Don't yell, Emmy. I'm right here."

"Yeah babe," Alison smirked stepping back. "Don't yell."

As Emily scowled, Auri stood on her tip toes and frowned at the lack of food, "When can I eat?"

The brunette heaved the girl onto a counter far away from the stove and replied with a smile, "It'll be just a few more minutes."

Eyes bouncing between the two women, Auri asked, "What are you guys doing?"

"Talking," Emily replied leaning against the counter beside the girl.

"About what?" Auri tapped Emily's hand resting beside her leg.

Illusively, the brunette teased, "Stuff."

Glaring and jamming her hands into her own lap, the inquisitive girl took a wild guess, "Special friend stuff?"

"That's exactly what we're talking about," Alison replied in a congratulatory tone.

Pleased to have the blonde's attention, Auri asked, "Do you like being Emmy's special friend?"

The brunette smiled as Alison nodded to the girl, "I do."

"Good!" Auri patted her own thighs and grinned up at her friend, "Emmy is nice."

Poking the three year old in the stomach, Emily replied, "Yeah, I know."

The girl snagged the woman's hand and said to Alison, "Mommy told me how nice Emmy was when I was a baby."

"Pfftt," the brunette scoffed wiggling her hand free. "You're still a baby."

Instead of arguing, the girl merely shook her head, "You're funny."

"I'm hilarious," Emily agreed. She clutched her little friend under her arms and plopped her onto the floor. "Why don't you take your baby self into the dining room. I think your crayons are on the table."

Alison walked next to Emily and slid an arm around her waist, "She's not a baby, Em."

"Thank you!" Auri beamed at Alison's agreement. She pointed at the blonde and informed Emily, "She's nice like you." Clasping her hands together, the girl requested, "Can you please keep her a long time?"

Emily forced her body not to react. With Alison pressed to her side, not even a twitch would go unnoticed. She replied simply, "That's the plan. Go color." She shooed the girl with her hands, "Skedaddle."

"Skedaddle?" the blonde laughed pecking her on the cheek as the girl ran to her beloved crayons.

"It's a funny word."

"So…" the blonde slowly turned the brunette toward her and inquired, "The plan is to keep me a long time?"

"Eh," Emily shrugged, "We'll see how I feel in the morning."

Alison trailed two fingers down Emily's cheek and whispered with a small smile, "You know you suck at lying right?"

The brunette cupped Alison's face and nodded warmly, "I know."

* * *

_BAM! BAM! BAM!_

"What the shit!" Emily jolted on her couch at the pounding on her front door. "Oww!" she winced when one foot flailed and smacked into her coffee table. She pushed herself to her feet and limped to the wooden door with what sounded like a battering ram on the other side. When she swung open the door, every happy thought shattered at her feet. "Duncan… what are you—?"

"Where the hell is she?" he shoved her aside and stomped past her. He was foaming at the mouth barely reigning in his soon to be stampede of fury.

_He knows. He already knows!_ Unable to turn and admit the truth that would destroy their friendship, she offered innocently to the empty doorway, "Where is who?"

"Cut the shit, Em," he smacked his hand over her head against the door slamming it shut. "Her car is in your driveway."

Emily toppled against the door, which shook from the force of his rage. As her friend backed away, she pressed her forehead into the wood. None of the fifty nightmarish versions of this encounter she'd been playing in her head on a loop began like this. It took every ounce of willpower to turn and look at him, "Duncan…"

She swallowed as he beat his right fist against the side of his leg. She remembered that he only did that when he felt like putting his giant hand through a wall. "Is it true?" He paused to wet his mouth parched from screaming obscenities in his car for the last ten minutes. "Are you fucking her?"

"What?" Her last stab at ignorance tore into her lungs as she asked faintly, "Why would you—"

"Paige is always full of interesting news."

"Fuck Paige," Emily scoffed.

"Em," a concerned voice drifted from around the corner. "What's going—Duncan." Emily's girlfriend gasped with her head whipping back and forth between Emily propped against the door and Duncan fuming a few yards from the brunette.

Duncan nodded at Alison with sarcastic shock, "I'm surprised you have clothes on. Em is usually—"

"Dude, let's not go there." Emily had no intention of this conversation straying into her past. "You're pissed because I'm your friend and—"

"That's right! You're my friend, Emily." His entire body recoiled from the stench of betrayal oozing from Emily's skin, as he waved toward his ex, "How could you do this to me?"

"Duncan," Alison stepped into the fray. "It's not her fault."

"Stay out of this Alison!" He snapped at her and batted away the defense of the brunette as his eyes bored into Emily. "You've done more than enough."

"Watch it," Emily warned finally detaching her previously trembling body from the door.

He crossed his arms and chuckled, "So you're sticking up for her now? That's a switch."

"Just—"

"I already took enough shit from you two years ago." He tossed his hands in the air still reeling with disbelief, "This can't be happening! I thought I had you back. I thought we were friends again!"

"Please," Emily folded her hands and bounced them in front of her as she begged, "Please just let me explain. I'm so sorry."

He tilted up his head and stared down on Emily's small 5'8" frame. He rolled his tongue between his teeth as he reduced her to a heartless backstabber with his eyes. "Fuck your 'sorry's. And fuck you."

"Hey!" Alison snapped.

Still looking at the infuriated Duncan, Emily held up a hand to her girlfriend several feet away, "Alison. Don't."

Oblivious to Alison's concern, Duncan yelled, "What the hell did I do to you that would make you—"

"Nothing!" Emily desperately assured. "You've never done anything!"

He raised an eyebrow, "So you got bored of screwing single girls so you—"

"It's not like that," the brunette insisted.

"I love her!" he cried out with a heart splintering into pieces.

When Emily's jaw merely dropped in response to his pain, Alison walked toward the two, "Duncan, you and I have nothing to do with her."

He glared, "That's bullshit, Ali."

"No, it's not. I—"

"You left me for my best friend!" the man roared as he pointed downward and rammed his finger toward the ground for emphasis. "This has _everything_ to do with her! The least you could do is not lie to my fucking face."

The blonde explained calmly, "I should have broken up with you long before I met her. I shouldn't have said yes when you proposed. I was confused and scared and—"

"Well," Duncan interrupted with a smirk. "You have Emily to un-confuse you and make you feel better. I know she's _really_ good at it. Aren't you Em?"

Slowly shaking her head, Emily growled, "You don't wanna go this route." She could already hear low blows and insults queuing up in her brain. "Please don't." From her perch on the high ground, she teetered on the side of the cliff as she stared down at the low ground.

Pacing, Duncan asked his ex, "Do you realize who you're getting involved with, Alison?"

Emily tried to still her hands shaking with a growing irritation as she crossed her arms. He was baiting her. She breathed steadily hoping the rhythm would douse the flares of anger. "Duncan, seriously. We don't need to fight like this."

"I'm trying to protect her."

"From what?" Emily spat with one foot hovering over the edge of the cliff begging the other to follow suit.

"You!" Duncan swung a finger in the brunette's direction. "Did I really need to answer that question? You're a fucking train wreck."

Emily hurled herself from the safety of reason into the abyss of exhilarating verbal devastation. She didn't see red. She didn't see anything. Blind with rage, she shouted as if slapping him in the face. "She doesn't want you! Just fucking admit it and stop blaming me!"

Pleased with the brunette's explosion, he tucked his thumbs in his back pockets and puffed out his chest, "You always did like to gloat."

"And you always liked to pout."

He stomped forward and froze two feet from Emily, "When you screwed other girls before me?"

"Yeah!" she blurted up at his face five inches above hers. "Which happened _all_ the time." She smirked as her face smacked into the unforgiving ground of the low road soaked in mud. She was right where Duncan wanted her. The more mud they slung and rocks they hurled, the less Emily looked like an innocent bystander in Alison's eyes.

"Fuck you!" Duncan snarled.

Snickering, Emily replied, "That's what you would say." The context of the argument faded into a pointless battle with she and Duncan exchanging debilitating personal attacks. She smiled remembering that she always won.

"Congratulations, slut. You closed deals before I did."

"Aww," the brunette poked out her lip tossing an imaginary stone of malice between her hands. "Is there a little bite with that pout? Cute."

"I should thank you for weeding out the bad lays." He pelted her in the head with a reminder of her reputation for low standards.

Hurling a stone at his knee, she chuckled, "Says the scorned lover."

"I never pegged you for a bitch who would steal my fiancé out from under me."

Emily flung mud at his chest, tilted her head and beamed with pride as mud poured down her arms dripping onto her feet, "I didn't have to work very hard."

"Both of you, stop it!" Alison ordered shoving them away from each other by the shoulder.

"No, let her go, Alison," Duncan said backing away further on his own. "Maybe she'll show you how little she cares about her 'girlfriends'."

Still trapped in an alternate reality with two friends barraging each other for the hell of it, Emily scoffed, "Oh because you were a fucking gentleman and man of honor in college? You wanna count how many sloppy seconds we exchanged?"

"I can't hear this," Alison mumbled to the floor cringing at the sound of the words 'sloppy seconds' easily sliding off of Emily's lips. Although loud enough for Emily to hear, Alison's words fell on ears deaf from constant mockery.

"I grew the fuck up, Emily," Duncan replied. "I've been in a _relationship._" He spoke the word slowly as if it was foreign to the brunette. "What have you been doing? Or wait—who have you been doing?"

Chucking another rock in Duncan's face, Emily taunted, "At least no one left me for someone else."

"Emily!" Alison latched onto her girlfriend's right arm and commanded, "Don't talk about me like I'm not here!"

Emily tumbled back to reality. Alison was standing there. She'd been standing there the entire time, while Emily viciously whacked Duncan with reminders of her superior sexual prowess. She was coated in the filth of her purposefully revoltingly painted image of her past as well as his. As fury pounded in her head, the disbelief in Alison's eyes cut into her chest. The torrent of emotional and physical pain crippled her speech as she tried to apologize.

Triumphantly, Duncan chuckled as Alison stared at her girlfriend with disappointment, "Told you. She doesn't care much."

Emily kicked her girlfriend's name from her paralyzed lungs, "Ali…"

"Same old Emily," the man shrugged.

Emily ignored the jeering man and begged Alison for understanding as she squeezed the hand on her right arm, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have… I can't keep talking."

"Nothing else to say?" Duncan sniggered.

"Oh, I've got plenty to say," Emily glared clinging to her girlfriend's hand. "But I'll regret every single fucking word."

With Emily curled up in surrender on the low road, Duncan clawed his way up the wall to the high road and offered, "Alison, I'm sorry. I didn't mean for it to go this way."

"Fuck yes you did!" the brunette threw off the blonde's hand as she boiled in a rage renewed by Duncan's abrupt shift in tactics. "This is exactly what you wanted."

"Em," Alison whispered, "Calm—"

"Don't be all self-righteous now," the brunette growled at the smirking man.

His voice quiet but calculated, Duncan said, "You'll just treat her like _all_ the other girls."

"God!" she rolled her eyes. His accusation blended with so many others she'd heard over the years. "There haven't been _that_ many girls." She sprung his carefully laid trap.

"Oh really?" Duncan stepped forward and challenged, "Then I'm sure you wouldn't mind saying how many. Alison has a strong stomach." Emily didn't dare look at her girlfriend. "Do you even remember their names?"

Acid curdled in Emily's stomach. Although numb to this method of abuse, she knew Alison was struggling with this aspect of her past. She hugged herself praying for a reprieve.

Duncan spat out a list, "High school girls, college girls, girls in their thirties and forties… were there any professors?"

"Just stop!" Emily yelped. "That doesn't matter now."

"It makes you a sl—"

"You better not say that fucking word again," Alison snapped.

"Since when do you think that I'm a slut?" Emily breathed. "You weren't like this in college. You respected me."

"Yeah, well you weren't fucking up relationships in college."

"That is _not_ what happened here," Alison insisted.

"If you're worried about Alison," the brunette finally contributed something constructive to the 'conversation'. "She's different from everyone else." Even though her heart screamed for a brief glance, she couldn't look at Alison. She felt dirty as if her words were tainted by the last few minutes of her cruel verbal assault. "I'm not messing with her. I'm not lying to her. I'm not using her. I really want to be with her."

"That doesn't mean that you're any different than you were." He continued in a nauseating tone, "Have you managed not to _fuck_ anyone else but her? You didn't always like just one—"

"Fuck you, you fucking asshole!" Emily screamed. He could call her a slut until his lungs were raw, but he couldn't accuse her of cheating on Alison. With her unintentional help, he was twisting her past and contorting it into a grotesque figure. With every foul insinuation and blatant accusation, he waved the figure into her and Alison's faces.

"Emily," Alison whispered.

"We haven't even slept…"

"Em," Alison repeated this time brushing her fingers down Emily's arm.

"Good for you," Duncan sneered. "You still have some fucking morals."

"I couldn't until I told you," the brunette answered calmly.

When Duncan's posture softened, Emily breathed a sigh of relief optimistically thinking the dust had settled to allow for a calmer but still emotional conversation. To her dismay, the man pried, "So you haven't touched her?" Both Alison and Emily glared at him not with guilt but with an overwhelming revulsion. "Not at all? Not even—"

"Don't be fucking disgusting," Emily growled.

Momentarily done with Emily, who was still reeling from their verbal onslaught, Duncan warned his ex, "She'll be done with you after she fucks you a few times."

"I don't believe you," Alison replied firmly.

"That's what she does, Ali," he waved his hand as if explaining the obvious.

"Not to me."

He cocked an eyebrow and rolled through Emily's old tricks, "So she didn't lure you in with her sarcastic charms? Or maybe hook you with her big brown eyes and act all mysterious? What about the jealousy stunt? She loves doing that." Emily flinched as Alison blinked away the flashes of doubt from her eyes. Cruelly he continued, "You're just a game, Alison. She's just putting more effort into you than she usually does."

Emily didn't know whether to reach out to Alison or give her space. The only thing she could do was repeat herself, "Like I said before, I'm not messing with her. I want to be with her. I need her. I—"

"I don't want to fucking hear this," Duncan scoffed.

"Everyone is hearing shit they don't want to hear," the brunette sighed heavily hoping the belligerent man might be willing to listen. "We used to tell each other everything. We never pulled punches. I haven't met anyone since Maya that—" Alison must have seen her body wavering as she pulled Emily to her side and rubbed comforting circles on her back. "You know how Maya was and how we were together. She wanted to marry me." The typically painful admission dripping with guilt fell from her lips with minimal discomfort. She had yet to realize that the woman holding her tightly helped to ease the pain every day. "That would have been it for me. No more dating, no more _anything_ with anyone but her. I didn't think I deserved to find that again or maybe something even better."

"So I'm supposed to be thrilled that Alison miraculously restored your faith in love or whatever the hell else?" Just as vulnerable as Emily, he said, "She broke my heart and now you're…" He gestured weakly at Alison on her arm.

"I'm so, so sorry."

He recalled with a voice tinged with defeat, "You listened to me on the phone. You let me scream and cry while you acted like a supportive friend with zero feelings for Alison."

"It killed me," the brunette replied with both Duncan and Alison in mind.

With eyes devoid of sympathy, he said, "I don't give a shit about your feelings right now."

Tears began welling in Emily's eyes. The shock of the past few minutes dissipated and the reality of their crumbling friendship stared her in the face. She had taken a baseball bat and shattered a carefully constructed glass house of trust they had built together with blood, sweat and tears. They had screamed unforgivable things at one another, but every word stemmed from despair and a twisted outburst of deep affection. One specific trait contributed to their unrelenting attacks. They were fighters and they fought hard for what they loved. There weren't any rules and they came armed to the teeth. The same look of defeat flickered behind their eyes. Bleeding, battered and bruised, one of them just needed to end it.

"I'm sorry for everything."

He shook his head, "That won't ever be good enough. And you," he threw his gaze at Alison and swept her from head to toe, "I don't want anything from you. You can screw my best friend with a clear conscience."

Pulling away from Emily to make her own supplication, the blonde said, "Duncan, I—"

"Just shut up, you bi—"

"Shut the fuck up!" Emily rallied for one last skirmish despite her gaping emotional wounds. "You've said enough about her. I shouldn't have let you say any of it. I swear to god if you—"

"What are you gonna do, Em?"

"Stop! Both of you!" Alison intervened for what felt like the hundredth time. She stepped in front of her girlfriend and said, "Duncan, I didn't leave you for Emily. I left because it was wrong for me to stay in a relationship with you when I knew that I didn't feel the same way that you did. You're an amazing, kind, strong—"

"Fuck that!"

Emily tried to side step Alison as she warned, "Don't talk to her like—"

"Em," the blonde glanced to her right while holding Emily behind her. "Please stop." When the brunette conceded with a huff, she elaborated, "There isn't a nice way to put this. Duncan, it took me so long to leave you because I couldn't convince myself to walk away from someone who loved me so much. I'm sorry that—"

"Please don't say anymore," he held out his right hand while burying his face in his left. "I can't hear any more shit from you two."

"Fine, there's the door," Emily swept aside pointing to the exit. She was done fighting. Everyone had lost. Apologies weren't good enough and she couldn't beat the air any longer or make Alison pull them apart again. She had demoted Alison to a referee rather than including her in what should have been an argument devoid of cheapening Alison to a prize pony.

"Wow," Duncan crossed his arms, "What happened to 'I'm sorry'?"

"It doesn't even mean anything at this point."

"So that's it? You're fine with all of this bullshit?"

"No!" Emily snapped. "I'm pissed because of this stupid fucking argument and even more pissed that I fucked up my relationship with you _again_." She shook her head and shrugged with disbelief. "And there's nothing I can do about it this time."

"Yeah," the man nodded and noted pointedly, "_This _time. Two years ago, you told me to fuck off. Maya, your girlfriend and one of my best friends, died. You wouldn't even talk to me after that night." His voice cracked. His face was smeared with the newly revived pain. "You blamed me. You weren't the only one hurting." He stomped forward thrusting a finger toward her. "I needed you and you weren't there."

"I fucked up," she agreed with eyes flooded with regret. "I know I did."

"And now this…" he sighed. "You're breaking me, Em."

She grabbed his right hand and squeezed, "Tell me what I can do to fix it."

A full ten seconds of silence sucked the air out of the room before he whispered as a plea, "Let her go."

"I can't," she dropped his hand and shuffled backward. "I'm really sorry."

"Fuck you both," he spat.

"Duncan," Alison offered, "Can I just—"

"No," he snarled and added with every ounce of resentment he had built up in his heart, "Have fun fucking the used up whore who killed her girlfriend."

Alison smacked the tall man across the face and yelled, "Get the fuck out!"

Paralyzed, Emily hung her head barely hearing Duncan as he wrapped his fingers around the doorknob, "I hope you're happy, Emily."

"Out! Now!" Alison roared physically pushing Duncan out of the door and slamming it behind him.

* * *

Alison was seething. Her chest tightened as her ribcage choked her lungs and her face blazed as blood boiled in her cheeks. Processing the last few minutes was impossible. She shoved rational thought out the door with her demeaning and unfeeling ex-fiancé. The deceitful serenity hanging in the air mocked the vicious tornado of anger and hurt swirling inside her and ripping up buildings by their foundations and trees by their roots.

Unlike her girlfriend, Emily stared blankly at the door without a hint of emotion in her face. Her upper body drooped forward and her arms hung limp at her sides. She appeared to be asleep on her feet, blinking only occasionally and breathing calmly and rhythmically. Started by the lack of reaction, Alison inquired quietly, "Em?"

Emily neither blinked nor flinched.

"Baby, are you okay?"

Emily opened her mouth and swallowed as if wiping a bad taste from her tastebuds.

"Emily?" Alison tried again softly.

Although not tearing her gaze from the door, Emily asked, "Should I ask you if you're okay too?"

Smiling at the angelic innocence in her girlfriend's voice, Alison locked the deadbolt on the front door and replied, "I really don't know." When the blonde turned, Emily wrapped her arms tightly around Alison's waist and buried her face into her shoulder. As Emily stepped in closer and nuzzled into her neck, Alison hugged her tightly and kissed her lightly on the head.

"I don't know what just happened," Emily mumbled into Alison's skin.

At the sound of the meekness in Emily's voice, a light fluttering chased the anger from her chest. Emily's plunge from a sharp tongued attacker to weakened victim stunned her with its unfamiliarity. The grieving Emily she comforted weeks ago was borderline hysterical and the apologetic Emily was humble yet confident. This was another thing entirely; Emily spoke to her differently and clung to her differently. While in full control of herself, albeit dented by insults, the brunette chose to strip away her layers of sarcasm and brashness. Alison savored the moment knowing Emily wouldn't let it last very long. She stroked her hair, "You know you're not the things he said, right?"

Emily answered silently, nodding into her girlfriend's shoulder.

"And I know you're not those things."

The brunette acknowledged again with a nod.

Alison's hands caressed Emily's back and she sighed, "And I know you didn't mean to say some of those things."

"I didn't," Emily agreed lifting her head and leaning back. She looked intently into Alison's eyes, "I am so sorry." As she spoke, her gaze dropped to the blonde's lips. She hesitated in leaning forward as if she had forfeited her right to kiss her girlfriend when she verbally beat Duncan over the head with a slew of crude attacks. When Alison eagerly pressed her lips to Emily's, the brunette sighed with relief and she melted into her girlfriend's arms.

Emily followed Alison's lead as their kiss lingered in the chaste, languid territory. When the blonde parted her lips and teeth, Emily waited in anticipation for her girlfriend's tongue to sweep into her mouth. Alison's soothed Emily's fears with every gentle movement and Emily replied with whimpers.

After a few minutes, Emily reluctantly tore her lips from Alison's to apologize with her lips on the blonde's cheek and neck. Kiss by kiss, she begged for forgiveness and understanding. Hoping her offering was worthy, she brushed her lips up Alison's throat and chin to her mouth and hovered, "I think I'm cursed with the crazy ability to say the wrong things."

The blonde kissed her nose, "It's a good thing I'm so forgiving." Emily cocked an eyebrow at the blonde's sweeping declaration. While Alison didn't keep record of wrongs as she did in high school and college, she was far from a blindly forgiving saint. She pecked Emily's lips and corrected, "In your case, at least."

"I need a _lot_ of it," the brunette stressed the word and rolled her eyes, annoyed with her propensity to say or do exactly what she shouldn't. "Is there such a thing as too much forgiveness?" She smirked and joked, "Do you have a threshold I should be worried about? Ya know, so I can get as close to it as possible."

Alison's sweet and vulnerable Emily had disappeared without a trace, leaving behind her witty, playful girlfriend in its place. It didn't bother her in the slightest. She adored the starkly different hues of her girlfriend's personality. Oddly, Alison drew strength from their peppering of flaws and weaknesses. Nothing made Alison more insecure that surrendering herself to a perfect person. Emily's slew of women rocked her confidence at times, but the blending of her faults and strengths steadied Alison and their relationship.

She pressed her lips to Emily's and murmured, "If there is, I'll let you know."

Emily responded with an almost giddy exhale of relief. She unlatched Alison's locked hands behind her back and led her girlfriend into her living room by the hand. She plopped onto the center cushion of her sectional and patted a spot on her right. When Alison sat down, the brunette scooted to the left and lowered her head into Alison's lap. After a lot of reaching, flailing, squirming, grunting and the blonde chuckling, Emily snagged the TV remote from the edge of the coffee table.

As Emily snuggled into Alison's lap, the blonde joked, "That would have been much easier if you just sat up."

"Yeah, yeah," the brunette replied shoving the remote into Alison's chest.

"Why do I have this?" the blonde gestured with the thick black block.

"Because I'm going to lay here quietly and if you just sit there and stare at me, I'll get majorly freaked out."

"Oh, so you're assuming I would creepily stare at you?" Alison mashed a button, the large screen lit up and the speakers trembled. As she turned down the volume, the blonde said, "The TV is much more entertaining."

Grinning, Emily grabbed her compliant girlfriend's left hand, kissed the top if it and draped it over her side.

Neither of the women paid attention to the screen. They saw colors and heard sounds, but their visual and auditory senses were occupied with looping their version of the past thirty minutes. Alison's hand eventually drifted down to Emily's stomach and met with Emily's own left hand. As the brunette always did, she unconsciously played with Alison's fingers while the blonde's unoccupied hand occasionally brushed through Emily's hair.

The minutes trickled by as the women relaxed silently in each other's embrace. Alison barely noticed when Emily's body shifted as she assumed the brunette was merely adjusting to get more comfortable. That innocent thought vanished when she felt wet pecks on her left knee. Although her entire body failed to respond immediately, her eyes snapped down and her jaw slackened as she watched her girlfriend's fingers slide up under her dress with her lips creeping behind them.

The blonde gasped when Emily pinned the bottom edge of her cotton dress to her hips, scooted and crouched over Alison's lap. Trapped air in Alison's lungs finally forced itself out with a cough. "What are you doing…" Emily sucked and bit her upper thighs, dangerously close to her panty line. "You better not be teasing," Alison whimpered as every nerve on her thighs came alive and reacted to the feeling of Emily's teeth and tongue on her skin.

Emily's next few movements blurred together and Alison could only blink in those few seconds. The brunette sat up and kicked over the coffee table. While the dark wooden table tipped over and smashed into the carpeted floor scattering books, magazines, coasters and two water glasses, she glided off the couch and dropped to her knees in front of the blonde. Her hands locked around Alison's thighs and she yanked her ass to the edge of the cushion with a grunt. Leaving white imprints of her hands on the pale skin, she easily pulled off Alison's lace panties and tossed them to the side. While Alison struggled to prop herself up on her hands, Emily pushed the dress up to the blonde's stomach and without a word or a glance, she plunged her mouth down onto a shocked Alison.

"Holy fu—" the blonde gasped at the sudden contact unable to even finish the four letter word as her teeth clamped down on her bottom lip. Less than a minute ago, Emily lay contently in her lap and now her lips were wrapped around her clit. Alison threw her head into the back of the couch and breathed, "Holy shit, Em."

With the unexpected and sudden shift in mood, Alison's body took a few seconds to react to her girlfriend's tongue teasing the outside of her core. Not deterred, Emily dipped inside anticipating her girlfriend's response. The faint tingles and vague heat between her thighs exploded into sharp throbs and consuming fire. Both women moaned as the blonde's arousal spread across Emily's tongue. Alison panted watching Emily purposefully drench her tongue, coat her lips and wet her tongue again.

"Thank god," the brunette moaned lapping against her girlfriend.

"What?" the blonde managed through a sharp inhale.

Smirking, Emily crawled up over Alison and purred, "You taste _so _good." She cupped the blonde's chin in her right hand and poked her thumb and index finger into Alison's cheeks forcing Alison's lips apart to form a fish face. Emily chuckled at the sight as she dropped her hand, pressed her lips to Alison's and tapped her tongue against the blonde's teeth.

When Alison allowed her entrance, the brunette immediately sought out Alison's tongue and shared the delectable taste with her girlfriend. Although her eyelids were closed, Alison's eyes rolled into the back of her head and she moaned Emily's name into her mouth. After a few seconds of the brunette's tongue sweeping within her mouth, Emily pulled away and darted back down to Alison who was even warmer and wetter than before.

"Mmmm, Em," Alison moaned and shivered when the tip of Emily's tongue flicked against her clit. With every nerve ablaze, Emily's tongue seemed to be everywhere at once, alternating between pressing into her clit, tracing the length of her slit and dipping inside her. "Shit!" Alison squealed and squirmed whenever Emily hummed into her.

When the brunette roughly wrenched Alison's legs from her head for the fifth time, she bit down on the blonde's clit. "Fucking shit!" Alison gasped at the attack of Emily's teeth and hands. Aside from small moans, Emily quietly worked her tongue skillfully and diligently to draw out a symphony of sensual notes of pleasure from her girlfriend's lungs and throat.

"No talking?" the blonde panted. During their foreplay sessions, the woman had been anything but silent as she riddled the air with erotic whispers of encouragement.

Lifting her eyes but not her head, Emily smirked, "And not hear you? Fuck that."

The blonde bit her lip and shuddered at her girlfriend's sultry admission of her newfound obsession with every sound leaving her lips. She moaned louder and jerked her hips higher when Emily sucked hard on her clit.

Suddenly, Alison felt Emily's tongue flapping haphazardly against her. The brunette was panting and swallowing whimpers. When she noticed Emily's hand no longer on her thigh nor visible at all, she craned her body to the left. Emily's right hand was tucked into her unzipped jeans pumping in and out.

"Hey!" the blonde exclaimed pushing herself into a sitting position. "That's cheating."

Emily glanced up with a face crinkled with determination and strained pleasure, "Fuck, Ali. Have you heard what you sound like? I can't help it."

After checking, Alison threw herself off the couch and tackled her girlfriend to the ground. When she peeked down at Emily's jeans, she slapped at the brunette's head, "Stop it!" When Alison glanced up and studied the woman's face, she licked her lips and guessed aloud at the reason why Emily refused to move her hand, "You're close aren't you?"

With wide black eyes, Emily muttered, "Umm yeah." Encouraged by the faint, guttural response, the blonde hastily yanked at the coarse material hugging Emily's thighs until Emily yelped, "For fuck's sake, stop trying to take off my pants and touch me!"

The sharp demand jolted the blonde's attention to the unquenched desire painfully pulsing between her own legs. She slinked further up for a better angle and wiggled Emily's hand out of her pants. Her fingers quickly replaced Emily's and she moaned as her fingers swam against Emily's core. "Finally," she sighed savoring the feeling as her fingers slid against the brunette's wet heat making Emily twitch and groan with pleasure.

When she pushed two fingers inside, Emily gasped as a plea, "No, no. Not deep. Just—" The simple words were enough. Alison's fingers retreated and rubbed Emily's clit vigorously. The blonde felt her girlfriend vibrating at her touch as her voice crescendoed, "Fuck, fuck, fuck!" Her hands flew to Alison's neck and ten fingertips dug into the back. Her hips jerked up and she tipped over the edge moaning the blonde's name, "Alison. Alison. Shit."

Letting her girlfriend ride out the tremors, her fingers slowed. "No, no! Don't stop. Look at me," Emily begged. Although her right arm tingled, Alison ignored the shoots of pain and renewed the speed of her strokes. She gazed down at Emily and moaned at the haze of desire that draped over her girlfriend's eyes.

When Emily's breathing hitched and her lower body twitched, Alison gasped at her girlfriend's climb to her second orgasm, "Oh my god… Emily."

"Say it again," Emily moaned as her hips bucked into Alison's hand as they had a few seconds before.

"Emily," Alison murmured staring straight into the brunette's eyes as Emily panted.

Almost instantly, Emily yelped as her eyes squeezed shut, "Christ!" She gulped down air. When her hips slammed into the ground, Alison slowed her fingers and lightly brushed over Emily's tender flesh. "Ali…" the brunette breathed out heavily and then choked on each word, "Okay. Please. Stop." Her arms crashed to the floor on either side of her.

The blonde pulled out her hand leaving a wet trail along Emily's stomach. She propped herself up with both hands and stared down with wide eyes and parted lips, "That is the hottest thing I've ever seen."

Emily flung her arms over her face as she wheezed and coughed. The blonde rolled onto her left side and drew circles on Emily's stomach waiting for her girlfriend's body to recover. The woman panted unevenly, "I knew—that—would happen." When she uncrossed her arms to find Alison beside her, she cajoled, "Hey. Get back on me."

Not arguing, the blonde climbed back on top and Emily started frantically trying to tug Alison's dress over her head. "Please get that off," the exhausted brunette gave up after only a few seconds. She turned her attention to her own clothes and yanked at her jeans. Easily sliding off her dress, Alison couldn't help but chuckle at the desperate woman wriggling under her. When Emily started grunting and whining, the blonde took pity on her girlfriend, leaned down and tugged off her jeans and panties.

Before she had a moment to stare between Emily's thighs, the brunette pulled her up by the chin, quickly unsnapped her bra and rolled her onto her back. Alison could see Emily's eyes bobble in her head at the quick motion. "Babe, you're going to pass out."

Fighting to steady her labored breathing, the brunette sat up, ripped off her shirt and bra and bent back down with a smile. "Not a chance."

She started to lower her lips to Alison's neck, but the blonde's hand pushing on her shoulder denied her the pleasure. "No way," Alison refused. "Give me a second." She shimmed down until Emily's breasts hung above her mouth.

When her fingers wrapped around Emily's nipples, Emily's head snapped down and she grunted, "Fuck, Alison." After only a few seconds, Alison's tongue begged to roll against one of Emily's hard nipples and flick the tiny balls of the protruding barbell. With her hands on Emily's back, the blonde pulled her girlfriend's right breast to her mouth. As soon as the jewelry bumped against Alison's teeth on its way into her mouth, Emily hissed, "I knew it."

The blonde smiled at Emily's reference to her previous statement of anticipation for Alison's teeth to scratch against her piercings. However, Alison determined that's not _exactly_ what Emily meant. She turned her head slightly, tucked both ends of the sterling silver barbell between her teeth and gently tugged. "Holy fucking shit!" Emily jerked and almost fell on top of Alison.

With Emily's nipple still in her mouth, Alison chuckled, "God, I love these already."

* * *

**Am I forgiven? :)**

**Fair warning, it's American Thanksgiving this week so real life will most definitely interfere with my writing. Sorry :(**

**You'll be glad to hear that the next chapter picks up right where this one left off.**

**Hope you guys liked it!**

**Thanks to MysticalGoddessOfWords for double checking parts of this. :)**

* * *

**update 12/25/14 - Just fyi. I'm not dropping this story, so have no fear. It's just not enjoyable for me to write linearly so I'm bouncing all around writing it. I'll get the rest of the story put together and start posting when I can. There's good stuff to come. I promise. My apologies! I treasure all your reviews and send out many virtual hugs :)**


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